The Search for the Heart of Ice, and Other Interesting Occurrences
by Dale Kaspersky
Summary: Legends speak of an ancient artifact called the Heart of Ice. Buried deep within the Frejlordian tundra and guarded by incessant blizzards, the Heart is said to grant its owner powers that rival those of the mysterious Watchers. Despite all odds, a group of adventurers sets out to claim this legendary power. Rated M for violence, sexual references, strong language and just in case.
1. Two's a pair

The tavern was located in a Noxian street that was known for being that slightly bit more shady than all the other shady streets in Noxus. The tavern itself had a redundant, run-down look about it. It was one of those taverns with a questionable safety, and even more questionable morality concerning the things that took place inside, but at the same time not questioned by anyone because it was cheap. A lone figure scuttled hurriedly along the street, giving the tavern a passing look, but deciding that it wasn't as interesting as the thing that he was hurrying towards, and started hurrying towards said thing even faster.

The tavern itself was bustling with activity, an earthquake of shouting coupled with a rolling wave of alcohol sweeping through the packed space. All of the chairs were filled, and the tables were cringing underneath the combined weight of the bottles of drink and the people who couldn't find a chair to sit on. One of the corners of the tavern was centered around a knight clad in black armor with a curtain of blonde hair that fell past her shoulders and down to her waist. She seemed very slim, and one could say that she was on the verge of being weedy, but she was of a relatively tall height. Her helmet, matching the color of her armor, was lying on the table in front of her. At that point, the helmet was accompanied by the woman's feet as she leaned back on her chair, raising a glass into the air and laughing out loud. She was joined in chorus by the gaggle of men around her, who would most definitely be behaving in a different, and far more perverted way were it not for the sheath that was hanging casually from the right side of the knights thigh, as well as the kite shield that was propped up against the table.

On the other side of the tavern, near the counter, a man dressed in simple, green robes sat solitarily. He was hunched forward, with shortly-cropped brown hair and of a stature that was opposite to the knight in the corner of the tavern, being short and a bit pudgy. Underneath his robes, he wore an equally-simple, yet effective suit of leather armor. He tapped his fingers on the counter as the bartender, a middle-aged man who ran the tavern for years and knew a lot of the people by name, came over and refilled his glass with a second shot of the drink the man just ordered. He didn't seem like the sort of man to own a tavern on the dingy side of town, but he knew the job well enough to have a couple of tricks up his sleeve in case any troublemakers went a bit too far. Those tricks mostly involved unexpected, sharp objects stabbed in the right places. Leaning forward, the robed man cleared his throat.

"Thank you for the refill, but I was actually wondering if you could help me out a bit."

"Well, that depends on what sorta help you'd like." The bartender spoke in a raspy tone, as he grabbed an empty glass from another person and poured a bit of cheap whisky from a stray bottle into it. Taking a dirty rag, he began to clean the glass out as he listened.

"Well…" The robed man began, looking around the tavern out of instinct. "I wanted to launch an expedition for some time now, but I keep on running into the same wall. You see, this trip is pretty dangerous, and my chances are pretty slim if I go by myself."

"Nowadays, a man's chances are slim if he goes out anywhere by 'imself." The middle-aged man noted, simultaneously twisting the glass in circles with the rag wrapped around his hand inside.

"True that." The other man agreed, nodding his head at the bartender. At the same time, he took a sip of his own drink, after which he tilted the glass towards the bartender, setting it back down on the counter afterwards. "Point remains – I need a crew. And I don't mean some bunch of fresh-faced twerps that don't know what way to hold a sword, much less how to swing it. I need professionals. I know this is probably not the place to look, but it was along the way, and better than nothing." He raised an eyebrow in anticipation at the middle-aged man, who right now pursed his lips as he pondered on the answer. He looked around the tavern, until his eye set on a specific corner, which happened to be the corner shared by the woman knight, who seemed to be in the middle of telling some sort of story, much to the entertainment of the surrounding men. At this time, the story reached some sort of climax as all of the men raised their glasses and jugs in unison, cheering in delight. The elderly bartender pointed his finger at the centre of this attention, his gaze fixated on her.

"Y'see that woman over there?" The robed man turned around, taking an eyeful of the relaxed, laid-back warrior. He had to admit, she was somewhat of a looker, but did not seem to him like a suitable candidate.

"Yeah, but she doesn't look like much to me." He spoke, unconvinced. "Seems like one of those with shiny equipment and a big mouth, but no substance. You know what I mean?"

The bartender nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. "Oh no, she ain't one of those sellouts with big talk and nothin' else. One of the best swords money can buy. Y'know, rumor has it that she used to be with the Demacians. Served in their armed forces, until one day she went an' left. No one knows why, and they ain't stupid enough to try ask."

The robed man whistled lightly, raising his eyebrows at the supposed defectionist that he kept looking at even since she was pointed out to him. "Well, people say a lot of things but if it's true, then I'll be damned. Those guys up there train some of the best saber swingers in the land."

The bartender's face turned slightly sour at that remark, but he decided to let it slide by. "Well, true or not, the fact remains that she's good. But she don't charge lightly, especially for difficult missions, so I sure hope you got of penny saved up for… What the hell is goin' on there?"

All of the heads in the bar at that moment turned towards the corner of the table where the commotion was taking place. The armor-clad mercenary was trying to continue with her story, but was continually interrupted by stubborn attempts at flirtation from one of the men. Finally, when that had not succeeded the man tried to make a move for the woman. However, this plan did not come into realization, as the knight stood up and grabbed the assailant at the back of his shirt, throwing him to the ground before his brain could even process what stupid of an idea it had been to try that sort of thing in the first place. This earned a round of applause and laugh from everyone present, except for the bartender who shook his head solemnly and returned to washing out the glass as if it was the most important job in the world, and the robed man who regarded the blonde knight with an appreciative nod of the head. "Huh… She's sure made of more than she seems." He murmured to himself, looking around tersely as the atmosphere in the tavern began to brew up.

_As most people probably know, taverns have that sort of inexplicable atmosphere that could be most closely compared to a very short-term version of the butterfly effect. Even the smallest of gestures, spurred on by the collective excitement of the gathered folks, and helped by the fact that trying to think logically and drinking usually do not go together very well, can totally change the whole mood of the situation, and have some very unexpected results. One of the best examples of this is _The Cow's Udder_, a tavern in Piltover that is currently the holder of the record for the longest ever bar fight in Runeterra. In fact, said bar fight is still going on after three weeks, and is constantly increasing in altitude as more and more people get stuck in for various reasons, and the original fighters didn't feel like leaving. The Piltover Police have been unsuccessful in shutting down the place simply because the only officer with enough balls (and the muscle power to back it up) to go inside and try to sort the fighters out was Vi, and her attempt at trying to put things straight ended up in the Enforcer herself getting tangled up in the bar fight. After drastic measures in the form of semi-nude pictures of the Sheriff of Piltover serving as bait had to be used in order to get her out, the authorities decided that the best course of action is to try and keep the fight contained within _The Cow's Udder_, and hope that the imminent drying up of the surprisingly large stocks of alcohol in the tavern will get everyone to sober up, think to themselves "What the hell are we even doing?", and finally go home._

Sure enough, within minutes the whole bar was in an uproar, with everyone beating down on each other for whatever reasons they could find. If someone couldn't find a reason to beat down on someone else, they did it anyway. Despite wanting to keep a low profile, the robed man soon found himself caught up in the brawl, as he braced himself to deflect a man that was pushed across the bar and was stumbling across towards him. Stopping the man in his tracks, the green-robed man aimed a jab at the other person's face, bringing him down to the floor. Glancing around, the man noticed that the woman knight he has been meaning to recruit was in a middle of a fight as well. In fact, she was so caught up she didn't seem to notice the fact that another man, the one who had been chatting her up earlier, picked himself up off of the floor and was aiming to make the back of her head acquainted with the beer bottle in his hand. Acting swiftly, the pudgy man reached behind his robe and pulled out a small knife with a simple but comfortable handle, and a sharp blade. In a swift motion, the man threw the dagger at the woman knight's attacker, pinning the bottle-holding arm to the wooden wall behind him.

Turning around, the woman caught a glimpse of the cursing and thrashing man, then turned back around, her gaze fixated on the robed man. She nodded her head in approval, her face showing gratitude. However, the gratitude soon ended its shift and was replaced with worry as she pointed to something behind him. This time it was the robed man's turn to, well, turn, but he didn't manage to do it fast enough as the chair crashed into him, sending him sprawling backwards as he tried to regain his footing. Looking around wildly, the man started moving back slightly to defend himself from the attacker. Coincidentally, this meant that he eventually his back met with that of the woman knight, who was also edging backward to get prepared for another combatant. Edging his head around, the robed man smiled lightly as he put his arms up to deflect a punch that was aimed from a pretty random direction.

Giving out a shout, the knight kicked at one of her own attackers. "Thanks for the help back there. That was a darn good throw if I ever saw one." The cheerfulness in her voice suggested that she was enjoying herself.

"Thanks." The robed man noted, grabbing one of the nearby men and throwing him at a random fighting group, sending everyone sprawling onto the floor. "Apparently, you're not that bad in a scrap yourself. Deft hand with a sword I heard."

"Best in the land." The knight spoke in a confident, almost cocky tone as she pushed back a very drunk woman that was charging at her, hollering something unintelligible.

"Well, that's just splendid because it so happens that I need a couple of experienced people for an... Expedition. Was wondering if you'd be interested. It's pretty dangerous, though."

Turning around, the woman knight regarded the robed man with a cheeky smile. Her eyes were of a brilliant, sky-blue colour, as opposed to the robed man's dark, oak brown eyes. "Depends on what that'd be, but luckily for you I usually take up any kind of assignment of it pays well enou- Careful!"

The robed man felt himself being pushed down to a kneeling position as the woman bore down on his shoulders with her left hand. The right one whizzed above his head as she punched someone that was creeping behind the robed man with a chair. Getting back up, the man shook his head, which was accompanied by a short whistle. "That was close. Thanks."

"No sweat. But I suggest we talk outside, where no one disturbs us." The woman knight turned back around to retrieve her helmet and kite shield from the nearby table.

"Sounds like a good idea." The robed man waited for the knight to pick her gear up, after which the two figures barged, pushed and fought their way past the crowd of people and out of the tavern.

The street was completely dark now. The air was chilly, and the robed man shivered slightly as he was hit with a wave of cold, completely contrasting with the stuffy, warm atmosphere of the tavern. The knight followed soon after him, taking merry, bounding skips down the steps of the tavern. Turning to the robed man, the cheeky smile returned to her lips.

"So, you said you had a job for me, eh? Wait, first of all let me introduce myself. Susan. But you can refer to me as Featherway." She stuck her arm out, palm wide open. With a surprised raise of the eyebrow, the robed man took the hand and gave it a small, but firm shake.

"Lexent. Or Lex for short. But you seem to be a bit quick to give me your name. Can be dangerous these times, you know."

"Not a worry. You seemed like you needed my help, that was reassurance enough. And even if you turned out to be a bad guy, I'd have my sword through your neck before you could do anything." The air of cocky confidence returned to her voice, as she sniffled lightly. Lexent raised his eyebrow yet again. _She's sure confident of her skill... _He noted the fact, but made nothing of it. Confidence brought just as much bad as it did good, so he wouldn't make any preliminary judgements just yet.

"So, about this job of yours... You mentioned it was dangerous?" Featherway questioned, putting her hands on her thigh.

"Oh..." Lexent smiled happily, taking a deep, steady breath. "The job... Yeah, it's sort of dangerous. Very dangerous, I could say. You see, the reason I need a crew of experience fighters is that I'm actually trying to locate the Heart of Ice."

_People say that somewhere, buried deep within the confines of the Frejlordian tundra, is an artifact called the Heart of Ice. Of course, people say many things, and the outcomes are often disastrous. Such was the case of the famed Gareth the Skilled, a Demacian of somewhat renown who told everyone he came across that he could simultaneously juggle seven goats, although he had never tried to do so, and in fact had no guarantee that he could actually do something like that. This would eventually lead to his very sad demise, and the events that took place before said occurrence went something along the lines of this (it should also be noted that said events, as well as Gareth's whole life in general took place before the catastrophe that saw the end of the Institute of War). _

_One day, as he was boasting about his ability in a local tavern, one of the more intoxicated occupants of said tavern challenged his claim to fame. A reasonably large and boisterous argument ensued, resulting in the tavern rabble taking out of the city and into a nearby farm. The farm owner was quite agitated when he noticed the unsightly folk outside his doorstep, but when the situation was explained to him, he decided that he was in fact very interested about the outcome of this challenge, and so seven goats were swiftly organized, and room was made for Gareth. Quite astoundingly, the man not only managed to juggle the seven goats, he also managed to do so for a full five minutes. Thus, the crowd admitted that Gareth could in fact juggle seven goats, the farmer was thanked for his help and hospitality, and the whole event ended happily when everyone went back to the city for another round of drinks._

_Unfortunately, Gareth passed away the day after as a result of a mob lynching by a bunch of angry environmentalists who claimed that those simple farm goats were in fact of a special, rare goat species and that they required special protection, and that juggling them was in fact a very dangerous thing to do, and that the death penalty was well more than deserved. They filed a claim to the Institute, but the whole situation ended on nothing as the environmentalists couldn't agree on what name to give to the newfound species, and everyone forgot about the issue. It should also be noted that to the discontent of the Demacian law branch the environmentalists in question got away with the lynching of Gareth because after the incident they immediately set off to Ionia to tackle the grave problem concerning the unacceptable amount of stepping on horned dung ants by Noxian soldiers._

_Alas, the legend of the Heart of Ice remains. The majority of the details were either unknown to begin with, or were erased from history as part of Lissandra's ploy to destroy all evidence about the Watchers, but it is said that when said Watchers, the dark creatures that gave the Ice Witch Lissandra her powers, were defeated in the ancient war, they decided to leave behind a fraction of their powers on Runeterra in the form of a chunk of True Ice. Supposedly, anyone who obtains the Heart of Ice will possess the powers of the Watchers, similar to those of the Ice Witch herself. Of course, some people claim that even that sort of power is not worth the risk of travelling to the very depths of the Frejlord, and then navigating the underground ice caves. However, most people who believe in the story of the Heart of Ice claim that it's powers would be in fact incredibly useful not only in the general sense of possessing a great power that could crush entire armies, but also in the little things such as surviving the roasting Demacian summers, keeping meat fresh, and making True Ice ornaments that you can brag to your neighbour about._

Featherway's eyes opened wide, as her arms crossed around her chest. "The Heart of Ice, huh? You do know that some of the best adventurers in the land lost their lives chasing after that myth?"

"First of all, it's not a myth. There is evidence that the Heart does exist." Lexent snapped back, slightly irritated. "And second of all, I know that. But I'm still going after it. The question is, are you going to join me?" His voice returned to his neutral state.

Featherway raised her eyebrows, looking up to the sky. "Well… Getting the Heart is going to be no walk in the park. Meaning that if you want me on your 'crew', it's going to cost you. A lot."

The robed man sighed lightly. He was expecting this, but didn't put much thought into it beforehand. "Isn't the promise of a power that would bring kings to their knees good enough?" He probed hopefully. This only resulted in a hearty laugh from Featherway, who shook her head.

"Fat chance. Try again, kid." Lexent frowned at being called a child. He was pretty sure that he was of a similar age to the woman in front of him, but didn't push the matter further. Truth being, he was searching for party members for a long time now, and he was pretty desperate to get the knight on his side.

"Well… I don't have much in terms of money right now. But we can make a deal. I bet that along the way, we'll meet lots of crazy people, and bandits, and whatever. That also means that we're sure to pick up some good loot along the way. You can have forty percent of whatever we find."

Featherway raised an eyebrow, pondering about this for a moment.

"Fifty percent."

As Lexent's brain was trying to process what the woman just said, it momentarily lost contact with his jaw, which dropped lightly. After his brain finally figured out what to say, Lexent shook his head defiantly.

"Forty-five."

Featherway sighed in exasperation. "Look here, you want me in this little suicide squad of yours or not?"

Lexent gritted his teeth. He hated being cornered like this, especially by a woman, but he had no choice. She was a good fighter, exactly the kind of person he needed for this.

"Fine." He snapped out with resignation. Featherway nodded in approval, as her right hand wandered over to her blade. Swiftly drawing it from its scabbard, the woman flipped the sword upside down in her grasp, and rested the tip in front of Lexent, holding the handle firmly with her hand.

"All right then. You've got yourself a bodyguard." She gave him the cheeky smile once again, and Lexent shook his head tiredly. He turned around, setting off along the dark street.

"Let's be going then." Sheathing her sword, Featherway started humming a little tune to herself as she followed behind Lexent.


	2. Worst expedition leader ever

The treaded, dirt path stretched on for what seemed like eternity. Dense forest surrounded both sides of the path, with a few of the trees reaching over the pathway, casting shades over the generally crystal clear walkway. The sun was up and about its business, illuminating the whole scene and basking it in the warmth of its rays. It was peacefully silent, as if a figure had swept across the forest and personally sewn shut the mouths of all of the wildlife that inhabited the forest. Of course, given how improbable it is that someone could have located every single animal in the forest that was capable of making a noise, much less sew it's mouth shut (which, considering animals such as birds with their beaks, would be pretty difficult), we can only assume that for some reason the wildlife decided to collectively keep quiet for now. A small breeze carried a couple of stray leaves across the landscape.

Suddenly, the forest was rocked by a shout. However, it wasn't just any random kind of shout. It was a very deliberate shout, with a very clear purpose and audience.

"YOU GODDAMN MORON!"

The dirt on the pathway was suddenly kicked up by the stomping of angry, armor-clad boots, and considering that the dirt was just lying there, not minding anyone's business, the stomping could also be considered fairly rude. However, the person who committed this act was fairly uninterested with manners, as they were too busy being incredibly angry at another person. These two figures were, quite interestingly, the woman knight Susan Featherway, and the knife-flinging artifact hunter named Lexent. The knight raced in front of the pudgy man, her gait sharp and fast, creating a series of dull, thudding noises as she continued to stomp aggressively at the ground. The man's face was knitted in a frown, as he jogged to keep up behind his companion.

"What's your problem?" He questioned in a confused tone. Stopping right in her tracks, Featherway turned around, staring daggers at Lexent much alike to the daggers that the man kept hidden behind his robes.

"What's my problem?" She snapped, stepping closer to the man. "My problem is that you are the most disorganized, inept, and simply the worst. Expedition leader. Ever." She turned on her heels again, storming off. His eyes open wide in surprise as his brain failed its battle with Featherway yet again, Lexent stood still for a while before shaking his head to try and get his head gears in working order. It worked well enough for him to be able to take a couple of steps forward again, and shape his shock into word form.

"W-What? What do you mean…?" He asked bewildered, his arms stretched out in front of him not knowing what to do due to the fact that his brain was still largely occupied with trying to process what Featherway said to him, as well as her outburst in general. The knight in question stopped yet again, turning to face Lexent. Her face was showing extreme irritation.

"Exactly what I said, you dork!" Featherway raised her arms into the air, and performed a little dance of questionable skill as she spoke in a mock imitation of Lexent's deep voice. "Look at me, I'm Lexent, the great adventurer! I'm planning to lead of the most dangerous expeditions of my life chasing after a chunk of ice, but in fact I don't know shit about how to go about it!"

Lexent gritted his teeth, his scowl deepening. His left hand balled into a fist, and the other one waved a pointed, threatening finger at Featherway.

"Hey, watch your tongue! I know what I'm doing!"

"Know what you're doing?" Featherway arched her head backward, and laughed bitterly into the air. Looking back at Lexent, she stuck out her fingers and began counting down as she made a list that she made Lexent very aware of by shouting it at him angrily.

"First of all, you haven't got any sort of supplies – food, water, horses, NOTHING! Second of all, the best clue you've got as to the location of the Heart is that it's 'somewhere in the Frejlord'. Third of all, you were dumb enough to go mercenary hunting in Noxus when you KNEW you were planning to take a side trip to Demacia all along!"

Finally unable to handle her belittling anymore, Lexent snapped back at the knight.

"I went mercenary hunting in Noxus because it was along the way, and I want you to remember that if I haven't done that, you wouldn't be in this crew in the first pla-"

"Along the way?" Featherway sharply cut him off, her eyes open wide in disbelief. "You think that the other side of the bloody continent is _along the way_?! By dear gods, I wish we haven't met after all." She shook her head, turning around again and marching off. Sighing in exasperation, Lexent followed after her. The woman was being extremely infuriating, and in any other circumstance he would have done away with her there and then. Alas, however infuriating, cocky, and disrespectful Featherway was, she was all that Lexent had at the moment, and he was determined to stick with her. At the same time though, he wanted to reassert his authority as the leader of the expedition, partly because he wanted to have things in grasp, and partly because the way the mercenary that *he* hired was treating him was a painful stab to his ego.

"All right, let's get some things straightened out. Whether you like it or not, you agreed to be part of my expedition team, and that means that I'm your leader now. Show some respect, god damn it!"

Featherway turned around yet again, standing on the edge of the path with her hands balled up in fists, and a look of contempt on her face.

"Oh I'm sorry, *boss*." She opened one of her hands and gestured towards the road with it. "If you're so desperate to be the leader, then do it. Lead us. We'll see how far you'll manage to get us before we either drop dead of dehydration, get slaughtered by wild animals, or- Argh!"

The knight was unable to finish her sentence on the account of a hook chain bola that had decided that this would be the perfect time to wrap itself around Featherway's neck and stick tree behind it, effectively trapping her in place. The woman gagged as she struggled to try and remove the trap from her neck and free herself. Seeing the perfect opportunity to get back at her, Lexent crossed his arms across his chest with a triumphant smile.

"See? This just proves that I'm superior to you because I haven't gotten myself caught in such a primitive, stupid wa-aaaaaaaAAAH!" In his excitement of the moment, however, the man has not taken into consideration the very high probability of the chain bola not being just a random chain bola that got flung by a random person who would soon come out of the forest saying 'Oh, have I accidentally hit you? My dearest apologies." Because of this, Lexent himself was caught in a similar fashion, when another bola came spinning towards him and caught him by the legs, throwing the surprised man down onto the floor. In fact, it so happened that both of the chain bolas were absolutely not random, and were part of a coordinated attack that soon revealed itself in all its glory when a group of men emerged from the trees surrounding the dirt path, their eyes gleaming with the sadistic joy of the hunt, and at having caught new prey as they formed a circle around Lexent and Featherway.

One from the group, a brown-skinned, shaved man with a green tunic fastened tightly around his stomach gestured towards the two helplessly trapped adventurers.

"Tie them." He spat out with a thick, garbled accent. One of his hands went to rest idly on the polished scimitar that hung from his waist, gleaming in the rays of the sun, which was blissfully unaware of the events that were happening on a seemingly unimportant road, concerning seemingly unimportant people. Immediately the group sprung into action, splitting off into two teams, each going to one of the adventurers and helping them out of the bola traps, only to tie their arms behind their backs with thick ropes. Featherway cursed to herself as she was dragged to stand in line with Lexent, casting disdainful glances at the men surrounding them.

"Caught by a bunch of bandits in the woods… You know, this is so stupidly cliché that it's actually sort of embarrassing."

"Tell me about it." Lexent mumbled as the dark-skinned man gave the order to move out. The pair was pushed forward, forcing them to move with the group of bandits who were now retreating back into the forest. Featherway looked around intensely, whilst a frown seemed to take permanent residence on Lexent's face.

"See, that's exactly what I meant by disorganization. If you had the slightest idea of what you were doing, none of this would have happened."

Lexent's jaw dropped in astonishment as he trudged on, encouraged by a few well-placed shoves from the bandits. Finally collecting himself, he snapped back angrily.

"You know, maybe if YOU didn't throw a rant in the middle of the fucking forest, we wouldn't have got captured like that! Why do you blame everything on me anywa-"

"Shut up." Featherway cut him off curtly but absently, not even gracing him with a look as her head flitted around the men that had captured them... Lexent's brain gave out once again; his eyes open wide as he tried to comprehend the interruption.

"I-I'm sorry?" He questioned, blinking rapidly. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said." Featherway continued in the same manner as before, but this time being more docile. "I'm trying to think, which I understand is a concept that you're fairly unfamiliar with, so I'll tell you right now that it requires a modicum of concentration. Therefore, I would appreciate it if you shut your trap for one moment."

Giving up on any attempts at a comprehensible response, Lexent simply shook his head and returned to muttering to himself. Meanwhile, the gears in Featherway's head were grinding away as the knight was making cold, stern calculations concerning their current situation. It was obvious that these people were amateurs. They haven't thought of blindfolding them in order to keep the location of their hideout or camp, which Featherway was certain was the place they were taking them, showing their inexperience. Moreover, they weren't very well equipped. The dark-skinned, shaved man obviously had the best gear, on account of his scimitar and the shine of a chest plate piece of armor that peeked out of his tunic. However, the rest of the bandits had to make-do with an assortment of short swords and daggers, most of which were dull and corroded with rust. There were no ranged weapons in the party except for the bolas that were used to kidnap them in the first place. A couple of the lucky ones managed to scrounge wooden shields along the way. One of the bandits even had an iron-tipped spear, which he had strapped around his back with a piece of cloth.

On the other hand, Featherway was not blind to the fact that the men seemed to know the forest very well. They easily glided through the dense thickets, finding places where the trees were sparser and navigating through the forest as if it was child's play. The knight's conclusion was that they were most probably former forest dwellers – lumberjacks and the like – who decided to form a groupie bandit squad and prey on the travelers in this particular area.

_A 'groupie bandit' is the slang term used to refer to a bandit who is part of a 'groupie bandit squad', which in turn is the slang term used to refer to a group of bandits that were formed from groups of friends, relatives, and the like who've decided to team up to form a bandit group. The thing that separates groupie bandits from your average bandits is their lack of experience and organization when it comes to do any actual law-breaking, and managing the group. Those sorts of squads usually end up either being captured, dying out due to the lack of essential resources such as food, or breaking apart after a couple of weeks due to squabbles over matters such as 'who should get that cool new sword we managed to steal'._

_The term 'groupie bandits' was coined shortly after the fall of the Institute of War, where the continent of Valoran experienced a boom in bandit activity, especially in the rural areas far away from any of the city states. Because each city state has become more closed in after the destruction of the one thing that was keeping the peace in Valoran, focusing on keeping order in their respective areas, this left those rural areas pretty much unattended. In turn, this caused a couple of farmers and wannabes in Noxus to set out from the safe confines of their city, and seek adventure, freedom and wealth as outlaws. However, because of their incessant talk on how it was super important to keep strong and united in friendship to be happy in their new life, they've been mockingly called a 'groupie squad', and that's the name that stuck until today. The bandits in question actually managed to do quite well for a while, even earning themselves a reputation of sorts in Eastern Noxus, where the attacked travelers and wandering merchants. However, they met their end when one day they happened to raid a Zaunite scientist on his way to show off his newest wares in Noxus. A series of events that followed, which included among others; a horse, a two-handed axe, an unluckily-picked sealed vial from the Zaunite's wagon, and someone (but no one was exactly sure who's) underwear resulted in the prompt destruction of the wagon, and the demise of all of the bandits and the horses that pulled the wagon in a flaming ball of ice._

The camp was as shoddy as Featherway imagined it would be. There were wooden huts, but nobody seemed to tend to them as most were in a state of disrepair and rendered quite ineffective at warding off the elements. Random objects, such as crates, clothing, scraps of food, and the occasional knife were scattered around the circular clearing. Right in the middle, there was a dying fire, glowing its last spark before it went out completely. At once the bandits began to relax, lying down on the floor and throwing their feet up, finding a particularly close bandit to have a conversation with, or searching the crates for that 'one last bottle of Graggy Ice' which everyone swore 'it was here somewhere.' Lexent and Featherway were brought to the middle of the camp and untied, but only for long enough so that the bandits could strip them off of their weapons. Featherway only had her kite shield, long sword and a small knife that she carried as a side arm. In contrast, Lexent spent roughly three minutes and thirty-five seconds locating every single throwing, combat, utility or special purpose knife that he had hidden in his robes, shoes, and pretty much any other available place.

"Umm wait, I think I also had one over here… Yeah, that's my shaving knife. And, er…"

By the time he was finally finished, the knives had made a fairly sizeable pile on the floor, which the barbarians stared at with amazement. Even Featherway rose a surprised eyebrow.

"I have to admit, that's a pretty impressive collection." She stated matter-of-factly. Next up, the bandits wanted to remove Featherway's plate armor, as it was a pretty much unseen rarity amongst the men, and everyone wanted to get their hands on the valuable. Featherway objected to this idea. One of the bandits insisted that they take her plate armor off. Featherway let the bandit know exactly what she thought of him and his idea with a sharp jab. Featherway was allowed to keep her plate armor. After that incident, the two had their arms tied again, and were roughly pushed down to a sitting position near the edge of the camp, with the privilege of being able to lean against the crates behind them. At this present time, the bandits decided to celebrate the fairly successful raid that they've managed to pull off by sharing the happily-found bottle of Graggy Ice, dancing around the re-lit campfire or making fun of the poor individual who's presently bleeding nose had been very closely acquainted with Featherway's gauntlet-covered fist.

Near the bunch of crates, Featherway and Lexent sat in solemn silence. Apart from the occasional glance, they didn't even exchange looks. Interestingly enough, Featherway seemed far more calm now, and her face showed only a curiosity of sorts, as she scoured that camp with her eyes. On the other hand, Lexent was slumped, and completely put down by the dire straits in which he and his companion had found themselves. It was at this moment when Lexent was gripped by that inexplicable sense of despair and self-depreciation. He suddenly saw sense in Featherway's words, whereas before he only saw mocking ridicule and insubordination. He also saw how stupid their capture really was. And above all, Lexent saw exactly how screwed both of them were. Some great expedition leader he was. He sighed heavily.

"I guess you're right…" He admitted with resignation, his head leaning back against the crates. Featherway glanced to the side , raising her eyebrow.

"Right about what?" She questioned curiously.

"Well, everything I suppose. I mean, look at me. I want to go after one of the most coveted artifacts in Runeterra, embarking on one of the most dangerous journeys possible, but I get captured by a bunch of twerps with sharpened twigs. What was I thinkin- huh?" He paused at this moment, as the camp was racked with commotion. This was because suddenly, a lone figure emerged from the woods, huffing heavily. He was dressed in a simple grey robe, with the hood pulled down and complete with a similarly colored cape. His young cheeks were red with effort, and his brown eyes gazed around with slight sadness. He had a mop of brown hair on his head that fell in wavy curtains down to his shoulders. In his hands he held a bundle of twigs and sticks. Upon seeing him, the bandit leader gave a coarse laugh, which was followed by everyone else laughing too. Dropping the wood with a huff, the youngster looked up at the bandit leader.

"Can I get a rest now? I've been collecting firewood all day." He complained. This only elicited more laughing from the bandits. After a while, the leader raised his hand with an evil grin on his face.

"No. I think we could do with some more wood. Just to make sure." Ecstatic laughter swept over the bandit crowd. The young boy looked with shock at the bandit leader, eyes wide open, but it only served to amplify the ridicule that he received. The dark-skinned scimitar-wielder allowed himself a small chuckle before giving the boy a stern look. This sent the latter straight back into the woods with a look of resignation on his face.

Featherway watched the event with the same calm curiosity that she displayed throughout their whole capture. Lexent also watched, but leaned back against the crates with an exasperated sigh when it was finished.

"Guess he got captured just like us, huh? This is probably how we're going to end up." He paused for a moment, realizing something. "Featherway? I'm sorry for dragging you into this. If not for me, you wouldn't have been in this shit."

If Featherway acknowledged the apology, then she didn't show it. However after a while, the woman spoke up.

"I'm sorry too." She stated matter-of-factly. To say that this was a shock to Lexter would have been making such an understatement that it could give competition to the biggest understatement ever made.

_As an interesting fact –the biggest understatement in the history of Runeterra was made when the explorer and hextech aircraft pilot Jeggers Wheedlebarrow crashed his custom-built fighter on the sands of Shurima. After scrambling out of the cockpit, the man took in the swaths of desert all around him, Jeggers nodded to himself and stated, "That's a lot of sand". It should also be noted that the second biggest understatement in the history of Runeterra is what Wheedlebarrow said right after that, which was "it's sort of hot here"._

"You… What?" Lexent blinked rapidly, still not believing in what Featherway just said.

"I said I apologize. This whole capture thing was sort of my fault too, throwing a hissy fit in the middle of the forest like you said, then blaming it all on you. I guess it was sort of unfair. Sorry. I can get a bit… Impulsive at times."

Lexent slowly nodded his head, quietly pondering on whether Featherway's mental faculties were in all their right places. At the same time, he was kind of pleased that for once the knight showed him some respect, which pleasantly tickled his sense of self-worth.

"Um… thanks, I guess. But it doesn't change the fact that we're pretty much screwed right now."

Feather turned to Lexent and gave him a smile. It wasn't her usual cocky smile, but a warm, reassuring one, like when someone pats you on the shoulder after a hard day and says "I bet tomorrow's going to be better".

"Oh, don't worry." She responded cheerfully. "I'll get us out of here. Those guys aren't real bandits, they're just a bunch of twerps who think they're leading the outlaw life. We're fine."

Lexent raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Oh, really? And how are you planning on freeing yourself from those ropes?"

"I don't know yet, but as I said, I'm impulsive. I can think on the spot well."

Lexent grunted, taking a side glance at the camp and the bandits. "Well then you better think on the spot fast. Have you seen the looks those guys have been giving you? I think their intentions are pretty clear."

"I noticed." Featherway muttered out angrily, her eyebrows knotting in a scowl. "Horny bastards."

Indeed, such was the case that several of the bandits were casting lustful gazes at Featherway's slim form, their eyes full of wonder since due to their group being unisex, they probably haven't seen a woman in a long time, much less someone good-looking like the female knight. At that moment, the bandit leader pointed at Featherway.

"Bring her here." He ordered. Two of the bandits that were near the pair of prisoners approached Featherway with cruel smiles on their faces and heaved her upward, dragging her along to the middle of the camp. Lexent watched on intensely, worrying for Featherway despite his outward intolerance for the mercenary.

The bandit leader approached Featherway with a smile on his face, looking over the woman.

"You know, it's been a while since we had women around here. Especially ones as beautiful as you." He took a strand of Featherway's hair in his hands, looking down at it.

"How romantic." Featherway cut back, the two words filled with as much sarcasm as you could squeeze into two words. The bandit leader seemed unfazed at this, looking back up at Featherway.

"As it were you are totally at our mercy, lass." The bandit leader seemed to savor every last of the words that escaped from his mouth. He edged closer, closer, until his lips were centimeters away from Featherway's ear. "It means that we could do anything… Anything to you, and you would not be able to do anything about it."

"Is that what you think?" Featherway snapped back, scowling.

The bandit leader's hand rose, softly stroking Featherway's cheek with the tips of his fingers. "That's right."

Suddenly, Featherway's knee rose, striking at the bandit leader and dropping a hextech explosive right in the middle of his two child factories. This was followed swiftly by a head butt that made the man stagger back and fall on the floor in a heap.

"Then think again." Featherway gritted out, staring at the mass on the floor in disgust. After the momentary shock passed, the rest of the bandits threw themselves at Featherway in the rage of their leader being beaten down like he just was. Featherway responded quickly, her head flinging backward to strike the man approaching from her behind in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch. Turning around, Featherway swept at the man's feet with her own right foot, sending him down on the floor. At the same time, another of the bandits swung down at Featherway with his sword. Without having any better options, the woman leaned forward to avoid damage to her uncovered head, which incidentally caused the bandit to strike in between her hands, cutting Featherway loose from her bonds. Looking at her hands for a short moment, Featherway turned around and smiled cheekily at the bandit who stood dumbfounded, processing what he had just done.

"Thanks." She said before aiming a cross punch at the man's cheek and also sending him to the floor. Picking up his short sword, Featherway parried another bandit coming in from her left, and took a swing at his leg. She managed to connect, but the wound was only a shallow one. Featherway took a step back, frowning at the sword in her hand.

"This thing's useless. I need my own weapons." She quickly glanced around, noticing hers and Lexent's weaponry lying where it was in a pile. Sticking her shoulder out in front, Featherway made a beeline for the weapon pile, barging past bandits on her way. They tried to injure her with their weapons as she raced past, but all blows were shrugged off by her plate armor, which Featherway was very thankful for at the present time. The weapon pile guardian braced himself to try and fight Featherway, but he didn't except the woman to slam right into him, which is exactly what she had done, sending both of them crashing to the floor. Picking herself up, Featherway jumped towards the weapon pile and grabbed her long sword. The other bandit also managed to scramble himself in that time and he lunged at Featherway ferociously. Turning so that she was on her back, Featherway swung sideways with her long sword, gripping it with both hands. The rest was half of the bandit's face skin being torn off as he fell to the floor beside Featherway, squealing horribly.

Standing up, Featherway picked up her kite shield and frantically strapped it to her arm. However, this caused her to be unprepared for the spear-holding bandit, who stabbed forward with his weapon as Featherway turned around, catching the side of her head and causing a gash on her left temple.

"Argh!" Featherway hissed out, staggering backwards. Spurred on by his success, the spear-holder attacked again. However having collected herself, Featherway blocked the attack with her kite shield throwing off the spear. Stepping forward, she performed a deep lunge, sticking the tip of her blade into the man's chest. The spear warrior stepped back, screaming out as he clutched at his chest with his free hand. Stepping up to him, Featherway turned around and flipped her sword in her hand, switching to a backward grip as she threw her hand back, stabbing the man through the stomach with a deadly effect. In one swift motion, Featherway pulled the sword out and stepped up to the man who was guarding the weapon pile, and was busy screaming and squealing in a pig-like fashion, clutching at the bloody mess that was his face. Feather stared at him with half-boredom, half contempt.

"Oh, shut up." She spat out, and stabbed downward with the blade which she still maintained a reverse grip on, spearing the man through the chest. Switching her grasp, Featherway pulled the sword out. At that very moment, she heard a furious scream behind her and swung horizontally out of instinct, intercepting the bandit leader's scythe. The man's face was twisted in a snarl, and he growled in an almost animal-like fashion.

"You killed my men! Now you die!" He gritted out, pulling his scythe back. Featherway stuck her kite shield in front of her, and pointed her horizontally-aligned blade at the bandit leader.

"We'll see about that." She muttered out. The rest of the bandits gathered around, but took no action, content with being observing bystanders for now on the account of the awe of seeing their leader dueling, as well as the fear they felt – after all, they weren't very experienced bandits, and they just witnessed two of their fellows being cut down. Bellowing a battle cry, the bandit leader charged forward, his blade arm raised. The scythe swung in a horizontal arc, and Featherway ducked in order to avoid it. Springing back up, her sword arm swung up, catching the bandit leader's chin in an uppercut and causing him to take a few steps back. Following on swiftly, Featherway swung down with her long sword. The bandit leader side-stepped to avoid the strike and took another horizontal swing with his scythe, aiming at Featherway's neck. The woman pulled her shield up, catching the scythe, and pushed back, flinging the bandit leader's sword arm back. Turning so that her back faced the bandit leader, Featherway followed up with a sharp elbow strike to the man's stomach, further staggering him. Featherway brought her sword arm right down to the left, stretching it as far as it would go and gripping it with both her arms. Then, as the bandit leader was still getting to grips after the blow to his stomach, she swung around with a wild cry, spinning the blade in a near-full 360 degree arc.

The bandit leader looked at Featherway in shock. A second later, his dead body slumped to the floor. The dismembered head flew off into the air and landed back on the floor with a dull thud. Featherway stood with crossed legs, maintaining her double-handed grip on the long sword. Her gaze was cast downward, her face obscured by strands of her hair. The rest of the bandits stared in horror at their butchered leader. This sight was enough to break the little resolve that they had, and the whole lot ran away with terrified screams, dropping their weapons onto the floor and disappearing into the woods.

The bandit leader's headless body was in Featherway's field of vision. She didn't move a single inch, but heard the bandits dispersing all around her, accrediting it to the fact that they just lost their leader. A thought came to Featherway's head.

_The most efficient way to kill a beast? Lop off its head._

However, with this thought, this scene, these running bandits came a sense of déjà vu. Following closely behind it were feelings of regret, loss, emptiness. Featherway battled said feelings, as her stance remained the same way it was.

Lexent watched this whole episode unfold behind him. His feelings were mixed between awe, shock, slight disgust at the bloody scene in front of him… It was really all too many, and his brain struggled with juggling all of those feelings at once, leaving the rest of his body unattended. This caused Lexent to simply stare blankly at Featherway who still refused to move. After a while however, a small smile appeared on the woman's face. Shortly after that, she threw her head up and showed Lexent her signature cheeky smile.

"No sweat." She stated cheerfully, leaning down to wipe the blood off of her blade on a patch of nearby grass. That well-known attitude of Featherway's was enough to snap Lexent out of his trance, as he raised an eyebrow at her. Getting up, Featherway sheathed her sword and crossed over to Lexent, leaning down next to him. She started undoing the ropes around his hands, giving him a playful glance as she did so.

"I told you I'd get us out of here." She bragged, not losing her cheerful tone. This helped completely cure Lexent from his dazzled state, as the man rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, those guys barely knew how to hold a weapon and even then you only got three of them. Most of them just ran away."

"But I still got their leader." Featherway countered as she managed to get the ropes off of Lexent's hands. The man stood up, rubbing his sure wrists as Featherway drifted away from him, scouring the bandit camp.

"What are you doing?" Lexent raised a curious eyebrow, nearly tripping over the spearman's dead body as he did so.

"Looking for any useful things that might help us out in our future journeys." Featherway called out, opening some of the crates scattered around the camp and peeking into them. "Otherwise known as looting, and it's what the people who win get to do to the people who lose. Now stop standing around like a god damn turnip and help me ou-"

Featherway was cut off by a terrified gasp, followed by the sound of several objects hitting the floor. Both Featherway and Lexent turned around to look at the source of said noise. The grey-robed boy, the one who was sent for firewood by the ex-bandit leader, was standing on the edge of the camp. His face was white with fear, his eyes open wide. He trembled lightly, taking in the massacre and the dead bodies. The twigs that he had collected were lying in a heap on the floor. Slowly turning his head, the boy look at Lexent, then Featherway, and then Lexent again.

"W-what happe… W-W-What d-did you-you d-do…?"

* * *

><p>Chapter 2 is here. This time there was an armed fight, occasionally some stronger language being used and of course the untimely arrival of the boy towards the end. I hope you enjoyed it; any feedback is very much appreciated.<p>

Cheerio.

~Kaspersky


	3. Three's a crowd

Lexent stared at the boy with surprise, his eyes open wide. Featherway also looked at him, but with only a raised eyebrow, carefully watching for what the boy was going to do next. The boy in question trembled some more, his eyes sweeping over the dead men. Encountering the decapitated body of the bandit leader made him swell with emotion. He expressed said emotions through a fountain of puke that escaped from his mouth as he clutched at his stomach, leaning over as he continued retching. Lexent eyed the man with slight disgust. Meanwhile, Featherway continued rummaging through the bandit camp, looking for anything useful.

After a while, the grey-caped boy's stomach had no more food left to chuck out, and he shakily straightened himself. He huffed lightly as he looked at the two adventurers. Lexent was by the weapons pile, carefully grabbing each of his knives, identifying it and then placing it in the correct place under his robe, or in any of the myriad other hiding places on his person. He was grumbling throughout the exercise.

"Wait, where did this one go again? Argh, fucking bandits…"

At the same time, Featherway gave a curious 'aah' as she encountered something in one of the chests. Reaching inside she pulled out a somewhat large, brown, leather sack. Laying it down on the floor, she peeked inside curiously. Raising her eyebrow, Featherway pulled out a potato from the sack and stared at it, blinking a couple of times. Finally, she dropped the potato back into the bag with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Might be useful." She said to herself, grabbing the bag and slinging it over her left shoulder. The boy stared at the proceedings as the dots joined together in his head. He looked at Featherway, fear painted across his face as he lifted a shaking finger towards the dead bodies.

"Y-You…?" Was all that he managed to stammer out. Featherway looked at the boy, then turned to glance at the three dead men, and looked back at the boy with the exact same plain and uninterested face expression.

"Yeah, me." Featherway stated flatly. Placing her right hand on her sword handle, she pulled the blade out of its sheath and twirled it in her hands, whilst raising her eyebrow at the boy. "Is there some sort of problem, or something?"

The boy gulped audibly, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. His face went even paler than before, which combined with the fact that it was already pretty pale when he first encountered the ex-bandit campsite meant that he was pretty much the color of paper.

"N-No, no! No problem, none at all! Please, don't kill me! I-I don't mean an-any harm to you! And I w-won't tell anyone, promise!" He stuttered out rapidly, as if he wanted to gets the words out of his mouth as fast as possible. His voice was shaky with fear, his breathing rapid and shallow. Featherway rolled her eyes, sheathing her sword.

"Wow… Calm down kid. Its fine, I'm not going to stick you." At this point, Featherway was joined by Lexent who had the knight's spare dagger in his hand.

"I think that's yours, right?" He questioned casually. Featherway turned to him, nodding her head and collecting the dagger from his hand. She slid it inside the special sheath that she had strapped on the outside of her plate armor's left leg, down near the sole.

"Thanks." She nodded in gratitude, and then gasped lightly and staggered as she clutched at her head, dropping the sack of potatoes onto the floor. Right in the aftermath of her combat with the bandits, the adrenaline helped Featherway to pretty much ignore the wound that the spearman had inflicted on her. However, with that now fading away, she felt her head sting. A wave of tiredness swept through Featherway, making it difficult for her to do anything beside standing in place and trying to not crumple to the floor. She pressed her fingers against her head, feeling the warm blood seeping from the cut, down her face and neck. She blinked a couple of times, trying to steady herself.

Lexent stepped up to Featherway, offering a supporting shoulder that the woman gratefully accepted, leaning on him with one arm whilst the other still held her head tightly, partly to try and step the blood flow from her cut, and partly to try and alleviate some of the pain that coursed through her head. The man looked at her with slight worry.

"Hey, are you alright?" He asked. Almost imperceptibly, Featherway nodded her head. However, her face still had a pained expression on it, her eyebrows scowled.

"It hurts like a bitch, but I'll live." Grunting heavily, she broke away from Lexent and made her way over to one of the deceased bandits. She was walking quite slowly on account on her injury, but she finally managed to get to the spearman. Kneeling beside him, Featherway used her knife to cut away a long strip of the man's tunic. She then tied said fabric around her head, essentially making a make-shift bandage of sorts to try and stem the blood flow.

Whilst this was happening, the young boy gulped again, and cleared his throat. Lexent turned around to look at him questioningly. The boy pointed towards Featherway.

"Umm, is she… Is she going to be okay?" He asked, his voice still a little bit wavy, but much calmer than before. Lexent shrugged his shoulders in indifference.

"You heard her. She'll live." He scowled at the boy, half-confused and half-accusing. "Why would you care though? Weren't you part of that bandit group?"

The boy's eyes opened wide, as he rapidly shook his head. He didn't want to have any association at all with the bandits.

"Oh, no! Not at all! I hated those guys! They just used me to do all the dirty work for them, like collecting wood for fire, or cleaning up after one of their drinking parties. In fact, I'm pretty sure most of the stuff they got me to do was just to make fun of me…"

"You don't say." Lexent replied, not feeling at all sympathetic towards the boy. "But that doesn't change the fact that you worked for them."

The boy flustered as he racked his brain for the answer to that. He waved his arms in front of him uselessly as his brain was occupied with how to tackle Lexent's claim.

"Yeah, but-"

"Oh, leave off the boy you jerk." A mocking voice cut the boy off. This belonged to Featherway, who had overheard the conversation from her position and was now returning to them at the same pace as she went off. Strips of grey material were wrapped around her head several times, and she had a light smile on her face. Lexent stared at her incredulously. He put his arm out, gesturing towards the boy.

"Hey, I just wanted to know why on earth he would give a shit about you, whilst being one of the people that captured us in the first place!"

"I don't know. Maybe he's a nice bandit." Featherway cut back sarcastically, giving Lexent a sharp, pointed glance. She then turned back to the boy, leaving Lexent alone with his shock.

"So, you say you were forced into working with them, eh?" She raised a curious eyebrow at the boy. Glad for the fact that someone seemed to accept his side of the story, the boy vigorously nodded his head.

"Pretty much. I got captured, just like you. Except I'm not exactly a proficient swordsman. Well, I'm pretty much inept with all sorts of weapons really." He chuckled a bit at his self-depreciation. Featherway only nodded her head.

"Huh… Interesting. All right, that's pretty much all I wanted to know." She then turned her head to Lexent, who was watching the short conversation with a frown.

"So, what's our plan now boss?" She questioned cheerfully, but with hints of tiredness still showing through. Lexent's frown deepened as he pondered on this matter. He didn't want to bring it up, but the fact that they had no way of quick transport was still an issue.

"Well, in case you've forgot we still have to find a way to get to Demacia. That's the reason you bitched on me in the first place, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." Featherway recalled the incident with a slight chuckle. She looked around the whole campsite, scouring it with her eyes even though she'd practically searched the whole place already.

"Well, I haven't managed to find any sort of horses or something. I guess we'll just have to keep on trailing along that dirt path until we get lucky." She finalized her train of thought with a sigh of resignation. She was already weak, and having to spend god knows how long more on the road on foot was enough to make her mood foul again.

"Umm… Maybe I could help you out."

Both Lexent and Featherway turned round to look at the grey-robed boy who was still milling around the campsite, not keen to separate from the two adventurers. They both raised their eyebrows at him, Featherway out of curiosity, and Lexent in confused frustration.

"What? Help us? Are you out of your god damn mind?" His tone rose, became angrier as he went on. "Why do you think that you of all people could help us?! In fact, what the fuck are you still doing here anyway?!"

The boy's face went pale again, as he took a frightened step back. This was not the sort of reception he was expecting at all. Featherway scowled at Lexent, slapping him lightly on the arm with her hand.

"Hey, what's YOUR fucking problem?" She snapped back at him, obviously annoyed. "The kid's just trying to be helpful, and he ain't done anything to harm us yet. Let's listen him out. He might just be that stroke of luck that we so desperately need."

At this moment, Lexent's eyes and mouth both decided in unison that right now would be the perfect time for a nice, long stretch. And that was exactly what they did, leaving the man with gaping eyes and his mouth hanging wide.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" He shouted out incredulously. "He was part of that bandit group! We can't trust him!"

"Sure we can." Featherway turned around, looking at the boy. "Hey kid, you mentioned something about being captured by them lot. Care to tell us anything more?"

A pained look shot across the boy's face. This was then replaced by hesitation, albeit one whose life was particularly short-lived upon encountering the stone-cold frown on Lexent's face. The boy gulped, and cleared his throat to speak.

"Uhh, sure, why not… Well, my family lived in a caravan. We made a living by going round to the different city states, doing odd jobs like, er, cleaning and stuff." The boy paused to scratch the back of his head.

"It was actually sorta nice. We got to see a lot of beautiful places. Like, I remember one time-."

"Cut to the chase, kid." Featherway cut him off with an irritated look. The boy gulped again, and nodded his head shakily.

"R-Right, yeah… Well long story short, we were going down that same road when we were attacked. My dad tried to defend us, but they killed him. Took me and my mother back to the camp. She tried to resist, so they killed her too. They almost wanted to do me in as well, but I begged to be kept alive. Finally, they agreed as long as I'd do chores for them. So, that's pretty much how I ended up here."

The boy cast his gaze down solemnly. He sniffled a bit, and lightly kicked at the ground with his sole. His mood was obviously dampened by the painful recollection of the events that took place on that day. Lexent stood with his eyebrow rose, not affected in any way by what he had just heard. On the other hand, Featherway gave the boy a sympathetic look and wandered over to him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you feeling alright kid?" She gave him a small smile, patting his shoulder lightly. The boy looked up and smiled back, his mood somewhat lightened.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." He whispered out, blushing very lightly. "It's just that… I'm sorta down, I guess. I mean, that kind of brought up some pretty sad stuff."

"Yeah, I know that feeling." Featherway agreed, the feeling of empathy helping her to warm up to the boy.

"And you ain't got any other relatives, I suppose?" She questioned curiously. Roland shook his head, his eyebrows knotted in through.

"No, I don't think so. The only family I ever recall having were my parents. I guess you can could say I had a sister as well, but I never saw her and my parents wouldn't tell me what happened. I was only about three years old at the time. Later they told me that she died at birth." His face was taken over by sadness once more. He sniffled lightly, which brought another compassionate look from Featherway. She took a glance at Lexent, who was still standing in his original position, and then looked back at the boy. She wanted to comfort him, but didn't know what to say. In the current situation, she decided that the best course of action was probably to just steer away from the topic.

"Well, I figure this is as good a time as any for some introductions." She stretched her arm out towards the boy, not mentioning what they had just discussed at all. "I'm Suzanne Featherway but I prefer to be known by my last name. What are you called?"

Feeling strangely comfortable in the presence of the knight, the boy accepted the offer of the handshake, his smile returning a bit.

"I'm Roland Reisen. Nice to meet you." He spoke up, his voice gaining confidence.

Featherway nodded her head in acknowledgement. "All right, Roland. Now, I know that my 'boss' was a bit of a dick towards you…" The following insult, combined with Featherway doing the air quotes when saying the word boss sparked an irritated retaliation from the man in question.

"Hey, you know I can hear you right?" He called out to the knight, who decided to ignore him and carry on with the conversation.

"Wait, let me reiterate that. I know that my boss was being the _largest god damn twat on Runeterra towards you!_" She arched her head back, calling the words out ostentatiously into the air. Lexent gritted his teeth, but said nothing except for discontent mutterings. He shook his head and looked off to the side. Meanwhile, Featherway looked back at Roland who watched the whole proceeding with a slight giggle. She smiled at him.

"Anyway, despite that I was wondering if you'd still be willing to help us out? You said that you might be able to." She raised a questioning eyebrow at the boy, who nodded his head eagerly.

"Oh, yes! Definitely! You see, I'm actually a mage. I don't have expertise in offensive magic, but I can do stuff like levitation, pushing stuff around, that sort of thing." Featherway nodded to show her understanding, and Roland carried on.

"So in short, I could teleport you over to Demacia. Granted, I don't have much experience with teleporting humans, especially over distances such as these…" Roland's voice was gradually losing its initial confidence as the flaws in his plain dawned on him. "…But, I've practiced with stuff like leaves! I'm sure I can do it!"

"You're sure? Pah!" Lexent's unconvinced, sneering voice came from behind, causing Featherway and Roland to turn their heads. He had a mocking smile on his face that caused Featherway to scowl.

"Kid, do you even know how teleportation works, especially across such massive distances? One mistake and you could get all of us killed."

_Teleportation is widely considered as one of the most dangerous means of communication because unless you have extensive experience and knowledge in it, there is a good chance that you will not arrive exactly at your desired destination. As the inexperience of the caster and the distance between the location of the travelers and their destination is greater, the possible distance of 'scatter' also increases, although the actual distance and direction remain completely random. This means that the travelers could potentially end up in the middle of the sea, high up in the skies, thirty feet underneath the ground, or in another suitably perilous situation. There is one documented case of a mage who wanted to teleport himself over to his friend's house, but accidentally sent himself right into the no man's land between a squad of bracing Noxian soldiers, and the group of barbarians that was charging them in order to voice their displeasure at the Barbarian Pacification Campaign, and negotiate a possible compromise using the pointy ends of their swords._

_Moreover, even if you don't outright screw yourself over with teleportation you're not always guaranteed to land anywhere remotely close to where you wanted to go. The greatest ever distance of this sort of scatter was recorded when a group of Demacian emissaries were meant to be sent to Ionia in order to negotiate a trading agreement between the two city states. Because of the treacherous Guardian Sea that surrounds the isle of Ionia, the Demacian government made a consensus to teleport the group of emissaries over in order to save everyone time and bother. Unfortunately, because the events took place after the destruction of the Institute of War, the Demacians had to make-do with one of their own mages. He had a fair amount of experience in terms of using magic, but he was pretty new to teleportation over great distances. Still, everyone was confident that he would success. As it turned out, the whole plan ended on nothing because the scatter was so huge that after the spell was finished, the emissaries found themselves to have only shifted a total distance of three centimeters forward._

Roland gulped in panic, glancing over to Featherway for guidance. The woman gave him no comfort however, her face showing curiosity, and nothing but. On the other hand, Lexent was giving Roland an angered, accusing look.

"W-Well, that's true, I guess. But… But…" The boy struggled to find a suitable counter-argument whilst Lexent pushed his advantage, crossing his arms across his chest.

"But what? But you're sure you can do it? But you're sure it's going to work? Shit talk!" He spat at the boy, who panicked even more. This also spurred Featherway to give Lexent a pointed look.

"Hey, lay off the kid. I think it's a pretty decent idea." She stated, which caused Lexent to open his eyes wide and stare at the woman in disbelief.

"Are you fucking insane?!" He shouted out. "Didn't you hear what I just said? He could teleport us right into the heart of a goddamn volcano, and you think it's a _decent idea_?!"

Featherway shrugged her shoulders in indifference.

"Well, it's not like we're got any better options. Think about it. If we stay here, we're pretty much bound to get ambushed again, get caught in freak weather, or whatever. If not that, we'll drop dead of starvation. One sack of potatoes can only get us so far." She nudged said sack with her boot.

"On the other hand, if we let this guy teleport us, we have a good chance of actually getting to Demacia. All of that talk of human teleportation is exaggeration anyway. In most cases you only ever land a couple of meters off your target." She waved the still-unconvinced man off.

"In any case, we're not going anywhere for now. I'm absolutely hammered, and I need a quick nap." Grabbing the sack of potatoes, she dragged it over to one of the crates. The knight then proceeded to sit herself next to the sack, and rest her head against the crate. Lexent blinked rapidly, and took a step towards her.

"You're having a fucking joke. Are you seriously going to sleep in the middle of the god damn wood, where anything could suddenly jump out and rip your neck open before you've even had the chance to say 'oh shit'."

"Actually, animals pretty much stay out of this part of the woods." Roland's quiet, informative voice came from the background. "They used to roam around here, but the bandits kept on killing any that they managed to catch. I guess they've pretty much figured out that it's healthier to avoid this area."

Lexent turned around and stared Roland down until the boy had squirmed away in embarrassment. Featherway pointed her finger at him contentedly.

"You heard the boy. Now, you two can keep each other company whilst I take a rest. See you in an hour." She called out cheerfully, her eyes already closed. Within seconds, she fell asleep.

Lexent sighed heavily in exasperation, taking a seat on the ground. He was extremely annoyed, not only with the fact that Featherway had once again totally ignored his authority as the leader of the expedition but also because she had enlisted the help of that boy. Speaking of the devil, Lexent gave Roland a dirty look as he sat himself down next to him. For some reason, Lexent disliked the kid. Not that there was anything about him that was worth disliking. It was simply the fact that Lexent did not trust him, but then he did not trust pretty much anyone these days. In fact, Featherway could be considered a somewhat of a special exception, only because he chose to hire her in the first place.

Lexent breathed in the cool air of the forest. Maybe he was being a bit ridiculous? Sure, the kid wasn't exactly trustworthy. But perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. Even if he was a magic user, it didn't seem that he would be able to outmatch him or Featherway. He was pretty weedy, and he didn't look like someone with the wherewithal to turn them into a crisp at a moment's thought, and he stated himself that he didn't dabble with offensive magic that much. Of course, he could have been lying, but still…

"So, you say that those bandits killed your parents, huh? And you didn't try to fight for them, or anything? You said that you do magic, right?" Lexent asked curiously, turning his head towards the boy.

Roland sighed heavily. "You think that if I could have done anything… _Anything_, to protect my parents from those bandits, I wouldn't have done it? That's the worst thing of all." Bitterness seeped into Roland's voice. His face twisted in disgust and contempt.

"I'm a mage. I should have been able to stop them no problem. But I didn't. Why? Because I'm pathetic. They started attacking us, and I just froze. I could have done something. Threw a crate at them, pushed them away, even tried to teleport us into safety. I could have done it. But I didn't. I was too busy being a scared little kid to be able to save my family." He paused, looking at the ground regretfully.

"It makes me so disgusted with myself that I want to puke." He stared at the ground as if it had stolen his favorite underwear. Lexent had a strange look of sorrow and confusion on his face. He didn't know how to act at all. He felt sort of sorry for the boy, but at the same time the far larger, stubborn part of him kept on insisting that it was nothing, that people were far worse off, that it wasn't any reason to…

"How about you join us?"

The words came out of Lexent's mouth quickly and unexpectedly, before he could stop himself. _Shit… _He thought as Roland's face broke into surprise, excitement, and delight.

"You, you mean it?"

Well, that was it. There was no way of getting back on it now. Lexent groaned internally as he cursed himself for his stupid mistake.

"Well, sure. Why not?" He did a pretty good job of pretending to actually having meant to take Roland on in the first place.

"We're after this artifact, you see. It's called the Heart of Ice. It's somewhere in the Frejlord, so we'll have to find its exact location before we can go get it. It's also going to be pretty dangerous, so I'm not sure you'll want to come along. In fact, I think it will probably be better for you if we drop you off in Demacia, if we manage to get there."

Roland shook his head defiantly. "No. I want to come along with you. I don't have anything else left. My family died, the bandits plundered our caravan and chopped it up for firewood and whatnot. I might as well tag along, right?" He gave Lexent a cheerful smile. The man smiled back awkwardly.

"Yeah, sure…" The man looked away, sighing with exasperation. Luckily enough, Roland didn't manage to catch onto it, as he got up and wandered off to another part of the camp. Lexent ran a hand across his face. This was just getting out of hand…

After an hour or so, Featherway roused herself. She sat up, slowly blinking her tired eyes. She stretched her arms, yawning loudly as she did so. Touching the bandaged wound on her forehead, she noted with satisfaction that her makeshift bandage managed to stop most of the blood flow, although it would probably need changing as soon as possible.

"Finally awake, huh?" Lexent remarked from his sitting position, not that far away from Lexent. Featherway waved him off, and looked around for the mage boy that was supposed to get them to Demacia. He was fiddling with something on the other side of the camp. Featherway jumped up to a standing position, breathing in heavily.

"In case you were wondering I'm feeling much better, thanks." She made a passing remark to Lexent. The man scowled, and gave a huff that pretty much said 'fuck off'. She collected her helmet and the sack of potatoes and wandered over to Roland, calling out to him cheerfully.

"Hey kid, how's it going to be with that teleporting thing then?" Roland looked over to her, and smiled brightly. He jogged over to her, holding a relatively large, orb-like object in his hands. Upon closer inspection, Featherway noted that the object was in fact a crystal-like sphere. It was of a murky, green color. It looked cloudy, as if a mist was trapped inside the orb. She pointed at it curiously.

"What's that?" Roland looked at the orb in his hands, and smiled at Featherway.

"I'm not quite sure. I've had it since I started practicing magic. It seems to work like a staff in the sense that I cast all of my spells from it. And I'm going to need it in order to get us to Demacia." The two were joined at this point by Lexent, who gave Roland a funny look. Featherway opened her eyes wide.

"Us? You're coming with us?" She questioned. Roland flustered a little, casting a frightful look towards the knight.

"Yeah. This guy, your boss, he said I could join you. I-I hope there's nothing wrong with it." He blurted out in worry. A wide smile appeared on Featherway's face. She looked over to Lexent who in turn looked away with embarrassment, shaking her head. She chuckled a little.

"Well, if the boss said so then I can't argue." She said happily, giving Roland a rough pat on the back with her right hand. "Welcome to the crew, boy."

Roland nodded in appreciation, smiling at her. "Thanks. Anyway, the way this is going to work is that I need all of you to place a hand on this sphere. That will help me in teleporting all of us to Demacia."

Lexent frowned at Roland. "How do you know that it's going to help if you've never tried human teleportation before?"

The mage shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I know that in most cases of group spells, such as teleportation, the mages get everyone involved to hold hands or something like that, so I guess it's supposed to help out."

_As a matter of fact, the above statement is completely false. Whether or not the people involved in any sort of group spell are physically connected, may it be direct or through another object such as the mage's staff, has absolutely no effect on the accuracy, power, or any other aspect of the spell. The reason why it is so widely believed that this is the case is due to the first ever group spell that was cast a very long time ago during the second Rune War. Before that time, group spell-casting was still a largely unexplored area of magic, and was therefore considered dangerous and, in pretty much any case, not worth the risk. However, this changed when of the factions involved in the war was in a particularly perilous situation. _

_In short, the situation involved the need of having a regiment of soldiers transported very quickly from point A to point B. Because teleporting each man individually would take far too much time, the leading warheads decided to take the drastic measures of transporting the whole regiment at once. During the incantation, one of the squads (quite understandably) held each other's hands out of fear at the very last second. Thanks to a spectacular coincidence not only was that squad only one to survive the teleportation, they also ended up in the exact place that the regiment was supposed to be transported to. After the incident, the rumor of physical contact being the key to successful group teleportation and the such spread around (even though the squad found themselves helplessly outnumbered by their enemy and were all massacred), and through some more spectacular coincidences, it stuck until today._

Featherway shrugged her shoulders. "Seems pretty logical to me." She tucked her hair into a bun and put on her helmet, which was of a simple, rounded design with a visor that moved up and down, providing additional protection for her eyes when needed. She grabbed the sack of potatoes with her left hand, and placed her right on top of the orb. Lexent gave the sphere an unconvinced look.

"Well, I'm still not sure about thi-." He began speaking in a slightly worried tone, but was cut off by Featherway, her voice slightly muffled by the helmet.

"Oh, stop whining and get your hand on the damn orb, you sissy." Lexent frowned at her, and then made a show of putting his hand on the orb. Roland smiled excitedly.

"All right. Let's do this…" His eyebrows suddenly knotted in concentration. He stared hard at the orb in his hands. His long hair flew up lightly, as if a breeze hit it from underneath. The orb started glowing with a brilliant, purple light. Featherway glanced around curiously, whilst Lexent looked as if he was about to be sick. The purple light increased in intensity. Suddenly, a loud thud emanated across the forest, though not quite loud enough to disturb any but the most sharp-eared wildlife that was in the nearest vicinity of the campsite that the animals dared to approach. Of the three adventurers, there was no sign.

Lexent, Featherway and Roland's feet hit the hard concrete. Featherway took off her helmet, and shook her head with a huff. Lexent sighed heavily, glad to be alive. Roland looked exhilarated, as if he didn't quite believe in what he had just done.

"It worked! I-It really worked!" He gasped out. Lexent gave him a pointed look.

"So, you mean you didn't actually know it was going to work?" He snapped at him. Roland gulped, clutching his sphere.

"No no no, I didn't mean it that way! I mean, of course I wasn't sure that, that…"

"That you weren't going to kill us?" Lexent pressed on. Roland turned away embarrassed, looking towards the distant building tops. Something was off, but he wasn't quite sure what. However before he could ponder on it any further, he heard Featherway calling out to them.

"Well, not only has he managed to not kill us, it seems that he wasn't that far off target after all. Look at those flags." She pointed towards a distant point. Lexent and Roland wandered over to her, looking over to see what she had spotted. It was a lone flag, flapping lazily in the wind. The markings on it distinguished it from anything else.

"Demacian." Lexent acknowledged. Featherway nodded her head, with a cheerful smirk on her face. Roland frowned.

"It's awful low though. I always imagined flags to be really high up, like- Uh-oh…" Suddenly, it dawned on Roland exactly what he thought was off earlier. He was looking straight, not upward, and yet he could see the tops of the buildings as if they were below him. He now noticed that the three of them were standing on what seemed to be a rectangular platform, with nothingness on all sides. None of them have noticed it so far because they simple haven't bothered to look, but now fear gripped Roland as he cautiously wandered over to the edge of one of the sides. Peeking over it, he confirmed his fears. His face turned beetroot red as he turned to Lexent and Featherway.

"Umm, guys? I think you should take a look at this…" He pointed down beyond the edge of the platform. Featherway wandered over to him happily, whilst Lexent was a bit more apprehensive.

"What is it, ki-…? Holy shit." Featherway's eyes opened wide as she took in the landscape below her, the streets of Demacia several stories below, the people, small as ants, going on about their daily business. Lexent simply stared incredulously, unable, or not wanting to grasp exactly what the sight below him had meant for the three of them.

* * *

><p>The author here. I would like to take this moment to thank all of the wonderful mothertruckers from my Roleplaying community for your continued feedback and help. Thanks to you this story is, and will be a thousand times much better than it would be without you lot. Special mention goes to -<p>

Wolfy - For pointing out to me that cockblocking the main character is totally overused nowadays.

Sariran - For providing the very insightful feedback of 'potato' as response to Chapter 2, which then became the inspiration for the sack of potatoes in this chapter.

Col Awesome - For being awesome.

As always, any feedback is very appreciated. Hope you enjoy.

Cheerio!

-Kaspersky


	4. Lissendorf's

Roland stared down in shock, his brain refusing to accept what he was seeing. Lexent also stared down, his brain thinking in parallel with the young mage's. In contrast, once she got past her slight initial shock, Featherway gave the view below an appreciative nod.

"Long drop down." She stated plainly, and wandered off to another part of the roof. Turning around, Lexent regarded her with the same, shocked state. Above them, a small, brown-feathered bird floated casually across the air. It was quite the ordinary bird, and in its beak it held a bunch of squirming and twitching worms, intent on carrying this prize back to its nest.

"That's all you've got to say?" Lexent questioned incredulously, raising his arms to his sides. "This kid just teleported us on top of a fucking building, and all that you've got to say is 'long drop down'?!"

Hearing himself being mentioned, Roland squirmed and put on the hood of his cape. Lexent caught this motion, and turned on him in an instant. The bird passed above the three figures, its gaze jutting down for a moment. It regarded the funny humans arguing on top of a building with slight interest.

"Oh, and about that!" He furiously stepped up to frightened figure, his face red with fury, jabbing a pudgy finger at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Lexent shouted at the top of his voice, sending the words hurling like daggers at the petrified mage who started taking shaky, rapid steps backwards, stuttering something but unable to form words. Lexent fell in step with him, keeping his angry, flaring nostrils right in the boy's face.

"You said that you were sure you could get us to Demacia-!"

"Which he technically did." Featherway's plain tone came from the background, cutting into Lexent's tirade. The man turned cut back at her, before returning to his assault on the pale-faced Roland. The bird flew past the ruckus on the rooftop, and drifted downwards a bit, where it was level with most of the multiple-floored buildings of the city.

"Shut up and let me talk! As I was saying, you said that you were sure you could get us to Demacia in one piece-!"

"Which he also technically did." The mercenary woman barged into the conversation once more in the same tone as usual. Lexent huffed angrily and shouted back at her.

"Let me finish, god damn it!" He turned back to the frightened and slightly backed-away young mage, and descended upon him like a hawk.

"I was going to say that you were certain you're going to get us to Demacia in one piece, but you teleported us straight into a dead end! How are we supposed to get down from here?!" He stopped speaking, stared at Roland impatiently. The boy desperately racked his brain, but before he could find some sort of answer to hold in front of himself like an olive branch, Featherway's voice came from the background, uttering a phrase so utterly ridiculous that it made both of the men open their eyes wide and stare at her.

"Where are my potatoes?"

"Erm… Excuse me?" Roland questioned in a quiet, dumbfounded voice. On the other hand, words were quite insufficient to even begin to try and describe the feelings of complete confusion coursing through Lexent, and so the man was reduced to continue staring. Meanwhile, the worm-carrying bird had set its eyes on another quarry – an innocent bug that was lying on a windowsill of a completely random house, basking in the sunlight.

"My potatoes." Featherway began explaining as if she simply had lost a pair of socks, and was standing in a cozy hotel room rather than on top of a fifteen-story building. "You know that sack that I found back at that bandit camp? It was full of potatoes, yeah? I held it when we were teleporting, but it's not here."

"Does it even matter?" Lexent said with a slight, desperate whimper, and gave a sigh of exasperation.

"In case you haven't noticed, we're in knee-deep shit. We can't get down from here, and I don't think anyone is going to hear us even if we had a bloody trumpet. So all in all, we're fucked."

"Well, I'm not going to say that I don't mind losing them potatoes. They looked tasty." Featherway shrugged her shoulders, and returned to scouring the edge of the room that they were on. Lexent followed her with his gaze, expecting something more, and having not received it threw up his arms, and questioned Featherway with sarcastic casualness.

"So um, you're not worried about this, or anything? Aren't going to try and come up with a way to get us down, or anything? No?"

"What do you think I'm doing, moron?" The knight responded absently, peeking over the perimeter of the roof. She frowned, leaning over even more as she glanced down curiously. Lexent's face turned beetroot red, and trails of smoke seemed to escape from his ears like the smoke from a steam engine. Gulping lightly at this sight, Roland took a sidestep away from the man. Featherway stood fixed near the particular edge of the roof that she stopped at, unaware or choosing to ignore the series of dull thuds created by Lexent's heavy steps as he strode over to the mercenary, prepared to give her a piece of the mind. At the same time, the worm-carrying bird descended on its prey. Unfortunately, the creature met a wall in the realization of its plan. Said wall was the glass window that separated the interior of the house from the exterior, but the existence of it was lost on the bird, which was so focused on homing in on the bug that it slammed right against said window with a dull thud. Slowly after, it slipped off the window and fell down towards the ground and to an inevitable death.

Lexent closed the distance to Featherway, the angry words that he was going to spew at her already sitting on the edge of his lips. In fact, he was so single-mindedly focused on his planned rant that his brain had absolutely no idea of how to reach when Featherway took a step over the edge of the roof and fell down from his sight.

Roland gave a gasp of shock, eyes open wide in disbelief. Lexent blinked rapidly, stopped in his tracks by the sudden occurrence. No one could have fallen down such a height and survived to tell the tale. Both men ran up to the roof edge that Featherway had been standing on mere seconds ago, looking down, expecting to see a tiny bloody smudge on the ground below them. What they saw instead made them even more shocked than they were, if that was even possible. The completely fine and definitely not a bloody smudge on the floor Featherway looked up at the pair with a wide grin on her face. She was standing on a concrete platform that protruded from the building. It was a small, square area that sunk into a flight of stairs. The edges of the stairs and platform were sealed off by walls of concrete, preventing an accidental fall. Featherway pointed downward, her grin plastered onto her face.

"Emergency staircase. Most tall buildings have those nowadays, so in case of a house fire people can get out to safety. Leads all the way down to the ground." She took a few steps down the stairs, and then looked up at Lexent and Roland, who were frozen in place. She spread her arms out wide, frowning teasingly.

"Come on, what are you twerps waiting for?"

…

Roland hectically ran down the last couple of steps and jumped down onto safe, trusty ground. A surge of relief rushed through him. Even with the protective concrete walls around the edges of the staircase, the boy was very anxious of the distance that they were above the ground just mere seconds ago, with the air blowing in their faces and the tiny people below them a constant reminder of what would happen if they fell. Overall, Roland incredibly glad to find himself on steady footing again. The same could be said for Lexent, who huffed with delight as he looked towards the street. They were stood between two buildings, one of them being the one on which they were stranded moments ago. The space in between the buildings fed into the main street, which Lexent looked at with unblemished delight. On the contrary, Featherway scowled at the street as if it stank of rotten cheese, and hastily donned her helmet, gathering up her long hair into a bun and stuffing it inside the helmet. Lexent raised an eyebrow at her.

"What're you putting a helmet on for? It's not like we're going to try and sack this place or something."

"I have my reasons." The knight replied plainly, pulling down the visor. She was now fully concealing her person within a cocoon of steel. Lexent shrugged his shoulders in indifference and started walking towards the street.

"Whatever. Let's move. I want to get to Lissendorf's Cleric Hiring Services as soon as we can."

"Leisenwhat?" Roland questioned confused as they emerged onto the main street. The sun was shining bright in the sky, and the streets were crowded. Wherever the trio cast their gaze, they saw an ocean of faces, people walking one way or the other, going on about their daily business. All of the conversations taking place blurred into one incomprehensible crescendo of noise that buzzed above the heads of the pedestrians like a swarm of flies. A refreshing breeze wafted across the street, bringing a wave of coolness along with it. The walking people formed an impenetrable cordon of sorts, moving forwards like a solitary unit, covering the street completely. However, Lexent managed to find an opening in the mass of bodies, and the group joined the main stream of pedestrians. As they walked on, careful to not lose sight of one another, Lexent answered Roland's inquiry.

"Lissendorf's is a mercenary guild. Sort of." Lexent shouted out, trying his best to make his voice heard above the constant noise of the street. "They take in all kinds of clerics and healers and train them. When they're old enough, the healers sign a deal with Lissendorf's and become sell-swords. Or sell-wands, more like. I wanted to hire one of Lissendorf's clerics to come along with us. I heard that they have some of the best healers around."

Featherway scowled underneath her helmet, and asked something, but the question went unheard in the noise of the street. Standing on his tip-toes and stretching his neck in order to try and look above the tide of people, Lexent managed to spot the place that he was looking for. Going back down, he turned to Roland and Featherway.

"We've arrived at the place! Stay close now, we're going to have to break off from the main traffic!"

They continued to walk with the flow for a short distance before Lexent took a sudden left turn, barging through a couple of people that were blocking that side of the street. The pedestrians in question gasped in protest, throwing a whole bunch of phrases at him that were certainly not praise. However, Lexent paid them no heed and quickly stepped onto the pavement in front of a large building, with Roland and Featherway following in step with him.

The building was made of a similarly-colored brick as the buildings around it. However, what distinguished it from the rest was, most noticeably, its' width, covering an amount of ground that could fit at least three standard-sized Demacian flats. The doors were made of an exquisitely-decorated hardwood, engraved with pictures of angels and bandages. There was a wooden, carved sign above the door that read "Lissendorf's Cleric Hiring Services". Below that, in smaller carving, was written "Providing highly trained healers for any circumstances". Roland stared at the large building with wonder. Featherway raised an eyebrow at it, folding her arms at her chest. Slowly pushing the doors open, Lexent stepped inside.

What he was greeted by was the exact opposite of what he had imagined. The floor was made from wooden boards polished until they were shining. The walls were painted a simple white and had pictures of the most famous clerics of Lissendorf's hung up on them, as well as little cups which held magical balls of light that illuminated the whole room. The hall itself was a spaced-out area, with a wooden desk at the end opposite the entrance. A pair of red ropes, supported by regularly-placed wooden poles with a golden top, marked a pathway that snaked around the entire room, finally ending at a door that stood in the wall to the right of the desk. What seemed like half of the pathway was occupied by people waiting in a line. Lexent blinked rapidly, trying to get his head around the whole set-up and failing. Roland stared with wide eyes, his mouth agape, clutching the magical orb with both his hands. Featherway looked left and right, and apparently reassured, took her helmet off, revealing her unmoved face expression. She tucked the helmet underneath her arm and shifted her weight to her other leg.

There was a smartly-dressed attendant standing next to the doorway of the hall. Seeing the confusion on Lexent's face, he approached him and cleared his throat.

"Is there something I can help you with, Sir?" He questioned in a polite and elegant tone. He had one of his hands placed on his chest, whilst the other one rested behind his back. He has shortly-cropped blonde hair, and acorn-brown eyes. His face was friendly and open, his lips curved in a wide smile. Lexent turned to him, quite unsure of how to react.

"Erm… Well, I didn't think this… This would be so, er…" He twirled his hands in circles, trying to think of how to put his feelings into words. The blonde attendant laughed merrily, but respectfully.

"Oh yes, I understand you quite well, Sir. Some of our regular customers got quite the shock, too. We're decided to renovate Lissendorf's. Tradition is good, but we felt it got in the way of effective and efficient service. We've decided to modernize the entire process of hiring. Please, join the queue and wait until you approach the front desk."

Raising his eyebrows, Lexent pointed at the two red ropes. The attendant nodded his head, his smile still plastered onto his face. Taking tentative steps, Lexent slowly progressed down the snake-like path. Roland followed closely in step behind him, looking all around himself and trying to take in all of the wonders of the hall. Featherway brought up the rear, not thinking much of the lavish decorations around her. The three adventurers joined the large queue, and waited.

Ten minutes in, Roland scratched his head and peeked at the apparently-unchanged line of waiters. "This is probably going to take a while…" He remarked quietly.

Thirty minutes in, Featherway sighed with exasperation. "This line is not fucking moving." She muttered underneath her breath. Turning to Lexent, she spoke in a louder, slightly irritated tone. "What were you thinking when you decided to drag us over here in the first place?"

Throwing his arms up in a gesture of self-defense, Lexent scowled at the mercenary. "Hey, it's not my fault. I didn't know it was going to be like this. The last time I was here there were far less people, and you negotiated with the healers themselves. It took minutes." He finished with a bitter note, looking at the people to either side of them. The hall was getting more and more crowded, and the snake-like line was nearly at the entrance of the building.

Forty-five minutes in, Roland groaned and shifted the weight of his feet. "My legs are hurting." He whined. Lexent turned on him with a scowl, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, shut your bloody mouth. We're not feeling much better, you know."

One hour in, Featherway whistled a little tune to herself. The wait was killing, but at least they were nearing the desk now. She crossed her arms at her chest, standing patiently. In her mind, she pondered on how she was going to knock Lexent out cold for getting them into this situation. However, this reminded her of something else. Tapping Lexent on the shoulder lightly, she questioned him.

"Hey, you know when we met back in that Noxian pub? You said you were broke. How are you going to pay for this whole 'hiring' thing?"

Lexent blinked rapidly. Swallowing hard, he turned around with an embarrassed face expression.

"Well… Er, I was thinking, you know, some of those healers, they, they, don't take money, y-y'know? Like, they do it for the honor, or just to go on an adventure, and stuff. I was hoping to get one of those people on board, yeah?"

Featherway's eyes narrowed, and she stared daggers at Lexent. Her voice was cold and uncompromising.

"So, you dragged us into this long-ass queue and you don't even know whether we'll get anything out if it?"

"Hey, calm down! We WILL get something out of it. At least one of those healers is bound to be taking jobs for free, I'm sure of it." Lexent cut back in a not very confident tone. Featherway's scowl deepened.

"They better be." She growled out in a sinister tone.

One and a half hour in, and the trio finally arrived at the desk. They were directed over to one of the receptionists, a brown-haired lady that sat upright in her desk, smiling brightly at Lexent, Roland and Featherway. She was dressed similarly to the door attendant, her clothes showing off the same black, red and white color scheme as the blonde man's. She spoke in a sweet, pleasant voice.

"How may I help you, Sir?"

Clearing his throat, Lexent spoke in the most formal and polite tone he could manage.

"Well, I want to hire a cleric. The problem is, I'm a bit low on cash…" Featherway gave out a laugh of contempt. Lexent ignored her, and carried on.

"As I was saying, I don't have a lot of funds. I was wondering if you've got any low-charging clerics?"

The lady nodded her head. "I understand. If you'd like to step through the door, you will find catalogues that showcase all of our mercenaries, as well as their hiring costs. You can choose whoever you like."

Lexent gave an understanding nod of his own, and gestured Roland and Featherway to follow him. The trio walked over to the door that was standing behind the main desk. Opening it, Lexent stepped through.

They were greeted by a smaller, far less lavish room. The walls and flooring were the same as in the main hall, but the wooden boards were simply kept clean, instead of lovingly polished like the main hall ones. The wall-mounted cups that held the small orbs of light were present here as well. A male attendant, dressed just like the two previous attendants, was standing at the doorway. Upon seeing the three new arrivals, he smiled brightly and gestured towards the several lined-up stands that were placed at regular intervals beside the walls. On each stand rested a book. Most of them were occupied by people who were flicking through the pages

"Welcome, Sirs and Madam. There is an unused stand by that corner. Please, have a look through it to see if any of our offers interest you."

Blinking a couple of times, Lexent looked in the direction that the attendant pointed at and spotted the vacant stand. With his two companions following closely behind him, Lexent approached the stand and looked at the closed book. It was made of simple, undecorated leather save for the golden letters on the front that read 'Catalogue'.

_One would think that using words such as 'offers' and 'catalogue' when referring to human beings is a bit objectifying. Now, in order to preserve Lissendorf's untarnished reputation and clarify any confusion anyone may have that could potentially lead to false assumptions – this is most definitely the case. _

Lexent flipped the book open. The pages were snow-white, kept in pristine condition. The front page was blank, but the next double-page marked the start of a 'Contents' section. The text was written in black ink, using neat and elegant cursive. The pages contained a list of names, clerics available for hire, in alphabetical order. Next to each name was the price that they demanded for their services, as well as a page number. Lexent skimmed down the list of names with a frown.

"One thing I forgot to ask – why do you want a cleric so desperately?" Featherway questioned curiously, glancing around the room. Lexent looked up from the catalogue, and looked at Featherway as if she just claimed that the sky was bright pink.

"Are you serious? Every self-respecting expedition requires a dedicated healer in order to tend to any injuries that the party is likely to sustain during battle. Having a healer has the additional advantage of not having to stop at the nearest town to treat injuries, which can severely reduce travel time as well as being generally convenient." He recited proudly. Featherway raised both her eyebrows at him, and looked away.

"God damn, did you get that from 'Adventuring for Dummies' or something?" She muttered out mockingly. Lexent blushed very lightly, and turned back to the catalogue. He continued to track down the list and not having found any satisfying results, he turned the page. After having gone down about halfway of the third Contents page, he gave a triumphant 'aha'! Roland and Featherway turned to him, peering over his shoulders at the catalogue. Lexent excitedly flipped through the catalogue pages until he arrived at his desired location. The first thing that came to attention on the page was the hand-drawn, pencil portrait of a young girl, perhaps nineteen in age. The girl was standing sideways, with her left side facing the reader. She was wearing a cape that fell down her shoulder, complete with a hood that was pulled down; similar to Roland's outfit. She was looking upward, smiling brightly. In her hands and close to her body, she held a staff about as tall as she was. It ended with a small bulge. The picture took up about a quarter of the page.

The rest of the page was text, written in the same style as the contents page. At the top of the page, the words 'Alena Hollyoaks' was written in large letters. Next to the photograph, there was a short explanation of Alena's background and personality, but this section was skipped by Lexent. The bottom half of the page contained a description of Alena's magical capabilities. However, this was also skipped by Lexent, as well as the section that explained her requirements as to the types of expeditions that she would be willing to undertake. The reason Lexent did not bother reading those sections was that the one thing he was searching for was written right at the top, underneath the title and above the rest of the text and the photograph. It said "Hiring fee – None." Lexent slammed the catalogue shut, and made his way over to the attendant.

"We've got our cleric!" He shouted out excitedly, gathering a few curious glances from the surrounding people. Featherway walked behind him, sighing heavily and shaking her head. Roland followed too, looking down at the floor, lost in thought. Lexent approached the attendant with sheer joy in his eyes.

"I want to hire the girl named Alena Hollyoaks!" He stated out loud, causing even more people to turn their heads to him. Not minding the sudden burst of activity at all, the attendant smiled brightly and nodded his head.

"Certainly. Do have the reference number of the cleric you'd like to hire?"

Lexent blinked. "A what?" He asked, confused.

"Reference number. It helps us identify our healers. It should be written on th-."

"Oh-seven-three." Roland piped up with a bright grin. The attendant seemed completely unmoved by the way he was interrupted, and nodded again.

"That's fantastic. Now if you'd like to step through the door over there, you can meet your newest addition and put together a contract. You will have to give the reference number to the attendant over there, so please don't forget it." He gestured over to a door that sat at the far end of the room. Lexent blinked at Roland, then silently turned around and made his way towards the door. Featherway nodded her head at Roland.

"Hey, how did you know that whole reference number, kid?"

Roland's grin widened as they followed their expedition leader. "It was written at the bottom of that page. Lucky thing I spotted it." He gave a jolly giggle. Featherway smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Good lad. At least you've got your brains in the right place."

Lexent heard the remark, but made nothing of it. He made his way towards the door and stepped through. The room looked identical to the one they just left, but it was much smaller, illuminated only by a singular cup that held an orb of light. The room was barren, save for a table that stood in the middle of the table, and around ten chairs that were lined up at the edge of one of the wall on their right. A male attendant with short, auburn hair stood at the doorway, a small straw of wheat clenched between his teeth. Under his left arm, he had a clipboard with several pieces of paper clipped to it. Seeing the trio stepping through, he took the straw in his hand, and smiled brightly at them.

"Hello. I'm guessing you're here in order to meet the mercenary of your choice and negotiate the terms of the contract. May I have their reference number, please?"

Lexent nodded his head. "It was something like… Oh-six…"

"Oh-seven-three." Roland piped up again. Lexent scowled at him, whilst the attendant nodded and flipped through the papers on his clipboard, after having put the straw back into his mouth. Nodding to himself after a while, he removed the straw again.

"Alright. Just wait here and I'll fetch Alena." He then crossed over to the door that stood opposite the door that they just came through, and disappeared behind it. Lexent sighed heavily, and took one of the chairs that lined the wall. Dragging it over to the table, he sat down tiredly. Featherway yawned lightly, leaning against the wall directly next to the door. Roland looked down at his feet.

"I wonder what that girl's like. I hope she's nice." He muttered to himself wonderingly.

"Well, we would know exactly what she's like if that dumbass bothered to read the page properly." She nodded at Lexent, who gave her a scowl and waved her off.

"Awh, shut up." He responded. Featherway chuckled lightly to herself and Lexent stared into the distance. However, the distance was obscured from sight by the wall that was some ten meters away from him. Roland continued to stare down at his feet, pondering quietly. After a couple of minutes, the attendant would return. Alena Hollyoaks trailed shyly behind him.

She was close to Roland's height, meaning she was slightly smaller than Lexent. Her cape was feather white; save for the red strip that ran along the edge of the hood and the edge of the bottom of the cape. Her staff was also white, and the bulge turned out to be a sky-blue crystal that was held in place by a cage of wood. She had brown, shoulder-width hair and chestnut-brown eyes. She smiled with embarrassment at the three adventurers, and waved her hand lightly.

"Uhm… Hello." Her voice was quiet and timid. Lexent stared widely as if the girl had just slapped him. Roland looked at her with a foolish grin, and Featherway gave a quiet, sarcastic wolf whistle that went unheard. The attendant gestured towards Alena with his hand.

"This is Alena Hollyoaks. I will let you discuss the details of your contract. When you're ready, just tell me." He smiled bright and nodded at them. After that he went back to his position at the doorway, and placed the wheat straw back in his mouth. Featherway, who had moved away from her spot in order to free the space for the attendant grabbed a chair and dragged it over to Lexent's right, sitting down. Finally snapping out of his stupor, Roland gulped lightly and looked around. He also dragged a chair over and sat at Lexent's left. Alena gulped lightly, looking around shyly. Lexent sighed, and gestured the seat that was on the opposite end of the table.

"Feel free to take a seat." He spoke in a bored tone. Looking over to the seat, Alena nodded her head.

"O-Oh yes, de-definitely! T-Thank you!" A frantic note was added to her timid voice. She shakily dragged the chair back and sat down on it. Lexent watched her with growing exasperation. Rubbing his eyes together, he spoke up.

"Your name is Alena Hollyoaks, right? Well, I'm Lexent. The woman on my right is…"

"Suzanne Featherway." The knight cut in, nodding her head in a friendly manner. There was a small, reassuring smile on her face. Lexent blinked, and shook his head.

"Yeah, so that's Featherway, and this guy over here is Roland." He jerked his thumb at the boy, whose foolish grin returned.

"Nice to meet you." He spoke in a slightly excited tone. Smiling shyly, Alena nodded in understanding.

"I see. I'm very glad to meet you all." She cradled her arms, gulping again. Lexent cleared his throat, leaning forward on his chair. His tone brightened somewhat.

"Okay then, Alena. I wanted to hire you for my expedition. You see, I'm trying to loca-."

"Will there be spiders?" Alena cut in. Her face paled considerably, and her eyes opened wide. Lexent blinked in confusion, raising an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" He questioned.

"Will there be spiders? On your expedition, that is?" Alena repeated in a gravely serious, scared tone. "I'm awfully scared of them, you know. They're horrible; the way they creep about on those legs of theirs and…" She shuddered lightly, casting her gaze sideways and to the floor. Featherway sniggered quietly, kicking her feet up onto the table. Lexent stared, wide-eyed and mouth open agape. Roland smiled warmly in empathy.

"Don't worry." His voice was surprisingly reassuring and calm. "I get scared of a lot of things too. But it's okay. We have good fighters in our group, like Featherway. She's incredible! She took on a whole bunch of bandits at once and won! It was-."

"Yeah yeah, I'm sure we'd ALL love to hear about Suzanne Featherway's incredible sword-fighting skills…" Lexent spoke in a bored, sarcastic tone. Featherway chuckled lightly and arched her head back with a cheeky grin, relaxing on the stool. Alena's smile widened too, and turned from an embarrassed, timid smile to a genuinely happy one.

"…But we have other things to discuss. You don't take any payment for your services, if I am correct?" Lexent continued, raising his eyebrow. Alena nodded her head lightly.

"That's correct. Being able to use my powers in order to help people in pain is enough of a reward." She closed her eyes, smiling brightly. Lexent's head slowly arched upward and descended down.

"Riiiiiiiiiight." He shook his head, snapping himself out of slow motion. "Anyway, as I was saying; I am going on an expedition to recover an artifact. I thought I could use a good healer in the journey."

"Yeah, especially since it's apparently going to be really dangerous." Roland piped up, and Lexent turned his head sharply to the boy, giving him a deadly, narrow stare. The boy gulped lightly, and shaking turned his head away. Lexent wiped the scowl from his face and waved Alena off.

"But it's nothing to worry about, really. As the kid said, we have good fighters on our team so-."

"I don't mind." Alena responded plainly. Lexent stopped short, staring at her dumbfounded. Featherway raised her head to look directly at the girl.

"Say what?" She spoke in a curious tone. Turning her face to the knight, Alena shrugged her shoulders.

"I said I don't mind. I just want to help people, that's it. From the day I started studying healing magic, I've sworn to become the best cleric I can, so that I can save as many people as possible. There's so much suffering in the world right now, and I just want to stop as much of it as I can. I might as well take this opportunity, right?" She looked up, hoping for recognition. During her speech, Featherway's stare grew more and more intense. The knight thought deeply about what Alena had just said, and as Alena's talk came to a close, Featherway's mind was set. Before anyone else could have the chance to reach, she sat upright in her stool and spoke.

"Well, that settles it. You're coming with us." Roland brightened up, and Lexent turned to Featherway in shock.

"Hey, what?! I haven't said that we're taking her on!" Heedless of his angered shouts, Featherway raised her hand and gestured the attendant to come over.

"Hey, Mr. Straw Guy! We've made up our minds." She called out to him. The attendant grinned and nodded his head.

"Excellent." He said, and started walking towards the piled-up chairs. Lexent was still rebelling against Featherway's spontaneous decision, raising his hands and shouting at her.

"No, we haven't made up our minds! Are you forgetting who the expedition leader here is? I'm the one who calls the shots! You can't just barge in and say 'we're doing this and this', I have to approve of it first!" The attendant dragged a chair over to the table and sat down between Alena and the trio of adventurers, unclipping a piece of paper from his clipboard. He placed it down on the table and pulled out a quill and a sealed bottle of ink from his shirt pocket.

"Should I draft a contract for you, then?" He questioned politely. Featherway nodded her head, pointing her finger at the attendant with a grin.

"That would be excellent! I can see we're on the same page." The attendant chuckled lightly and popped the bottle of ink open. Laying it down on the table, he dabbed the quill in it and began scribbling something on the piece of paper. Lexent continued raging on, waving his hands at the attendant.

"Hey, what are you doing? Why are you doing what she's telling you? She's not the leader of this group, I am! What sort of customer service is this, anyway?

Why is no one listening to me?!"

* * *

><p>Hello once again, everyone! I'm terribly sorry for the long break, but recently I've had a lot of things piled on my head concerning school, Christmas, that sort of thing, and I haven't managed to find the time to write. I probably won't be able to update as regularly as I have done to this point, but I will try to make sure that you don't have to wait too long between chapters. That being said, I hope you enjoy Chapter 4! As always, any reviews and opinions are very welcome and appreciated.<p>

Cheerio!

-Kaspersky.


	5. Shields, Crossbows and Circus Cruelty

The side street was narrow, but welcoming. Unlike most side streets, this one was kept in a good condition, with the walls having fresh paint of them and the entire area being lit by orbs of light nestled in cups, similar to the system used inside Lissendorf's Cleric Hiring Services. The street was very short too, composed of four adjacent buildings on both sides and branching off towards two bigger streets at either end. One of those streets was the main one that the Lissendorf's building was sitting next to. Since a couple of hours have passed the traffic of pedestrians was beginning to relax a little, although there were still quite a lot of people walking along. The wall that belonged to Lissendorf's had a door in it. At the present moment, the door opened and Lexent stepped through, looking around at the mini-street. Featherway came out right behind him, followed by Roland and finally the cleric Alena. The attendant with the wheat stalk popped his head through the doorway, smiling brightly at the four. Lexent turned to him, gesturing to the setting they had found themselves in.

"What the hell is this all about? Why didn't we leave through the main entrance? This looks like some sort of dingy back street."

"Oh, don't worry yourselves. This street is completely safe." The attendant replied with a bright smile. "We use it in order to free up space in the main hall and avoid difficulties with people using the same doorway for entrance and exit. I hope you will be satisfied with your new cleric!" With that, the man disappeared behind the door and slammed it shut. Lexent blinked a couple of times, and then looked to his right where the side street fed into the main street. Shrugging his shoulders, he led the group out onto the street. Turning to Featherway, he muttered angrily.

"That was a dirty trick you pulled back there."

"Huh?" The knight replied, confused.

"That thing where you suddenly decided to take that girl on, even though you damn well know that-."

"Christ Lexent, what's your bloody problem?" Featherway spread her arms out to side. "You know that you were going to have her join us anyway, since she was probably the only cleric willing to work for free and you ain't got shit half of a gold piece to your name."

"That's not the point!" The anger rose in Lexent's voice, although both of them still spoke in hushed tones. "What I mean is that you keep on undermining my authority! I made this group. I'm the expedition leader, and you all work for me. That means no more of this disobeying me crap and doing shit like that without my consent. You got that?"

"Sure thing, boss." Bitter sarcasm seeped through the words, followed by an irritated mutter. "I hope we get enough loot from this whole thing to make 50% of it worth the trouble."

Lexent gave a long and tired sigh, and glanced back towards Roland and Alena. They were having a friendly conversation, with happy grins on both of their faces. Roland made hand gestures in the air in order to aid his description of something.

"It's true, I'm telling you! He had this one massive tooth that stuck out of his mouth, and when he spoke it made this sort of sliding noise against his lips…"

Alena giggled lightly, covering her mouth with her left hand. Lexent called out to them.

"Hey, you two! Come on, I need to talk to everyone."

The two robed figures turned to him, and wandered over to stand to his left. Featherway was still standing to his right, and they formed a circle of sorts. Lexent looked around to everyone.

"Alright, here's the deal. Featherway had a good point about us not having any supplies to go on this journey. Luckily enough, I know a guy who can help us out. However, we're gonna have to wait until it's night to talk to him."

"What is this guy a vampire or something?" Featherway remarked, which enticed a bunch of poorly-stifled laughs from Roland and Alena. Lexent shot the blonde woman a fiery look before continuing.

"Anyway, the point is that we have some time to kill. I trust that you're all big boys and girls and can take care of yourselves. I'm going to go and get a couple of things done, as well as check on something in town. You can do whatever the hell you want but we meet back here by sunset at the latest, and I want to see all of you here. Anyone who's late gets left behind, understood?"

They all nodded in assent, even Featherway who had seen through Lexent's false threats and knew that despite himself he could not afford to lose any of them at this point. He spent too much effort gathering this team, and he would not leave any of the members behind, especially Featherway herself. Scratching the back of her head, the woman looked around.

"Well, I don't know about you but I'm going to go find the nearest blacksmith and take a look at some gear. See you lot later… That is, if 'boss' is benevolent enough to wait for everyone." She gave Roland and Alena, who were presently fighting to not laugh out loud in front of Lexent yet again, a quick and reassuring wink and strolled off. Lexent sighed heavily as he watched her go, and turned back to the two youngsters.

"Never mind… Well, as I said, I have some stuff to do. You two kiddos take care, okay? Don't get yourselves lost, or killed or something like that."

"Don't worry, we'll be fine!" Roland responded with a wide, merry grin. Lexent sighed, not entirely convinced.

"Okaaaaay… Well, I'm gonna go now as well. See you back here at sunset." With that, he turned around and disappeared in the crowd of pedestrians. Roland watched him go, and then turned to Alena.

"So, what do you want to do?" He questioned. Alena shrugged her shoulders, looking around at the people that walked past, weaving around them.

"I'm not quite sure… Hey, what's this?" She wandered over to a poster that was stuck to one of the walls. It depicted a picture of a circus tent with a bunch of people who looked like they had just tried Shimmer for the first time. The colorful caption at the top of the poster read "Marino's Mesmerizing Circus!" Below the tent and the people, about a third from the bottom of the page, a smaller caption read "Come watch the most amazing show on Valoran!" Below that were directions on how to get to the circus tent, which was pitched on the outskirts of the town, as well as the different times that the show was going to be put on at.

"Hey, it says here that the next show is at half past fourteen. That's in half an hour! Want to go see them?"

Roland read over the poster, a dejected frown appearing on his face when he saw something at the bottom of the piece of paper.

"It says here that the admission's fifteen gold pieces per person. And I don't have anything."

"Oh, don't worry! I can pay for us both. I always carry spare change around." Alena replied brightly. Roland frowned, scratching the top of his head, his fingers running through the long strands of his hair.

"But I thought you work for free, right? I don't want to offend you or anything, but shouldn't you, like, have no money?"

"Oh, I get paid regularly by the lead coordinator. She's in charge of all of us, in a way. She told me that although I can start doing assignments like all the other people, I'm still technically in training so therefore I'll be getting supplementary funding from Lissendorf's until I complete the standard course."

Roland frowned lightly, looking down at the ground.

"Still, I don't like the idea of you paying for me. I mean, we've barely just met and…"

Alena giggled lightly, gently bopping Roland on the nose with her staff. "You worry too much. Really, it will be my pleasure."

Roland swatted the staff away with his left hand, the right still holding tightly onto his magical sphere. He grinned lightly.

"Well, alright. But I'll pay you back someday, I swear!"

"If you insist." Alena grinned back. "Anyway, I think we'd do best if we get to the circus site as soon as possible. Let's go over there now."

"I don't see why not!" The young mage replied with a shrug of his shoulders. Together, they set off down the street.

…

The shop was empty save for the proprietor who was sitting behind the counter, yawning lightly as he wiped a metal chest plate with a rag. It was a relatively large shop, consisting of one room with all sorts of equipment. Armor sets strapped to mannequins lay on display at one end of the shop. Several shields were hung up on the opposite wall, reflecting the light from the solitary window of the store. And weapons – masses of weapons lay all around the place. Swords stacked in piles, axes hung up on hooks, spears lying by the bunch in barrels. The entire shop was filled with all sorts of fighting equipment.

The door slowly opened, the small bell hung by it ringing lightly. The man behind the counter looked up, slightly bored. He was an ageing bloke of around forty years old, completely bald and with dull brown eyes. He was slightly overweight and was wearing the commoner's clothes, a simple red shirt and matching trousers. He watched Featherway step inside the shop and look curiously at all of the wares.

"Hello there! May I help you with something?" He questioned with a hint of sarcastic bitterness.

"No… Just looking around." Featherway responded idly. The proprietor nodded his head and returned to cleaning the breastplate, though he kept his eyes on Featherway. After having initially scanned the shop, the woman crossed over to the section that held the shields and picked one up from the wall, looking over it curiously. It was a very large, rectangular and slightly curved shield. It had a simple design, with a white cross painted on a red background. A small, metal bulge sat right in the middle of the shield. The shop owner seemed slightly surprised by this occurrence, as his hand that held the rag ceased to perform the circular, cleaning motions on the breastplate.

"Shields, huh? I thought you were going to go straight for the swords."

"Well you thought wrong then, haven't you?" Featherway replied in the same, disconnected tone as she loosened the straps on the shield and slipped her arm into it. She then tightened the straps again, securing the shield on her arm.

"You know, technically you have to ask me for permission first before you can go on trying out equipment." The shop owner called out from behind the counter. Not bothering to turn towards him, Featherway shook her left arm around lightly, feeling the shield, weighing it, seeing how much freedom of movement it allowed her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You mind if I test this one out for a bit?" She did not cease doing her thing when she said this, and carried on afterwards. The shop keeper gave out a slightly humored sigh.

"I guess not… Though I do have to admit I hadn't had a customer like you in quite a while. They usually go for the weapons first. They're mostly youngsters. Straight out of their compulsory three years in the army, y'know. They don't let you keep your gear if you leave. So they come rushing over to stores like mine. Though now that I think of it, you're way too old to be like one of them lot.

Featherway chuckled lightly. "I'm younger than I look. And it serves you right to come to hasty conclusions like that. Something about judging books by their covers?" A small smirk appeared on her face. The shop keeper gave out a chuckle of his own, a rough and hearty one.

"I guess so. In any case I'm glad that you're not like them others, the ones that come barreling in, and a gaggle of them at once. Screaming like idiots, the darned lot of them. And always demanding weapons first, I tell you! All the time, it's 'Hey old man, I want a new sword!', or 'I'll take the best axe you've got!' If you ask me, a sword's fine and dandy but it ain't any use if you're not alive to swing it, you get what I mean? All in all, there's nothing better than a good, trusty shield to cover yourself with."

"I disagree with that." Featherway, who had been silently continuing to weigh the shield in her arm throughout, suddenly spoke out. She turned to the slightly confused shop keeper.

"What do you mean? You think that weapons come before defense? But surely you-." The man began his inquiry, but was cut off by Featherway.

"I don't mean that." She spoke in a calm, knowing tone. "I meant that part about covering yourself. That's not a shield's main advantage. At least not for me. I'm already indestructible so a shield is not going to make much of a difference in that aspect, right?" She grinned cheekily.

The shopkeeper frowned. "I don't get it. So you don't use your shield when you fight?"

"No, that's not what I meant. A shield's still good in a scrap, but that's not its main purpose. To me a shield is not for protecting yourself, but for protecting others."

"Others…?" The shopkeeper had his full attention on Featherway now, regarding her with a curious look. The breastplate and rag lay on the counter beside him.

"That's right. In the end, those who most need a big chunk of metal to cover themselves with are usually those not strong enough to lift it. That's what soldiers are for – to do the heavy lifting. Take the brunt of the fight for everyone else, y'know?" At this point, she started grinning again. "Plus, escorting jobs always pay really well."

The shopkeeper smirked at her. "You're a mercenary then?"

"Yeah. I don't exactly have any other sort of talent or skill. Not one that could earn me any money, anyway. So I had two choices for making a living – sell my sword, or sell my body. For obvious reasons I decided against the second option."

The shopkeeper nodded his head in understanding. Featherway carried on talking.

"I guess you could count me lucky. Knowing how to use a weapon can get you a long way in these times. At least I don't have to bow and scrape to afford a stale chunk of bread."

"Heh… I guess I'm lucky, too. One thing those young folks have going for themselves is that they're pretty damn rich. Parent's money and that sort of thing, you know? So the business goes along pretty nicely. I mean, at least I can't complain about an empty pantry." He watched Featherway practice with the shield for a brief moment, before resuming talking with a smile. "So you like that shield, then?"

"Yeah." Featherway admitted with a genuinely happy grin. "It's a good shield. Large, heavy and sturdy. Just the way a shield should be. I never liked those flimsy little round shields, you know? They're too small to block anything without a hawk's precision, and I don't have time for precision."

The man nodded his head in understanding. "You should take it. Unless you have a reason to stick to your old shield, that is. I mean, from what I can see it's a pretty good shield too."

Featherway shook her head, frowning. "It's served me well, but I still like this shield a lot. Unfortunately, I don't think I could afford it. I don't have a lot of money on myself at the moment."

The shop owner waved her off. "Just take it. You don't need to pay."

Featherway raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" She questioned apprehensively.

"Yes, I'm sure. It was very interesting talking to you. Even though you call yourself a sell sword, you're more of a soldier than most of the people who walk through these doors. I hope that shield serves you well."

Featherway stood there for a moment, processing what the man had said. Slowly, a grin spread across her face. A very wide, bright grin.

"Alright then… Thanks." Then again, in a slightly elated tone. "Thanks!"

She nodded her head lightly, and proceeded to take the straps off of the greatshield on her arm. She then rested it against a nearby wall, and took off her kite shield that hung across her back. She hung the greatshield on her back, and strapped the kite shield across her arm. She made a move towards the door, but the shop owner called out after her.

"Hey, wait up!"

Featherway turned around, glancing at him. "Yes?"

"As I said your shield is pretty good, too. Maybe you'd like to leave it here… You know, as compensation? It's worth less than the shield I gave you, anyway." He spoke in a tone that suggested he knew exactly where this plan was headed. Featherway chuckled lightly, shaking her head.

"No chance. But you can buy it, if you like. Since you're so nice, I'll give you a slight bargain~."

The shop owner responded with a hearty laugh of his own, closing his eyes and arching his head back. "Oh, you're a sell sword after all!"

…

Lexent strode purposefully through the street. He drifted off the main street and was walking down one of the poorer parts of Demacia, located on the outskirts of the city. The buildings were of a far lesser quality, some of them run down and desecrated. Wherever one cast his eye, he could see crippled veterans begging for spare change, orphan children playing with ripped up dolls, groups of people huddled around a small fire, sustained using bits of papers lying around on the floor. Lexent continued to walk down the street, mindless of all of this. His eyes were narrow, as if he already had his destination in his sights. His hood was pulled up, partially concealing his face from everyone else.

After a while he reached a small, desolated building. It seemed to be no different from all of the other small, desolate buildings in the vicinity and yet Lexent saw something quite special in it. Stepping up to the door, he knocked on it lightly. After a while, the door inched open a bit and someone with dark blue eyes peered out of the gap.

"Who the hell are you? Whaddya want?" The tone was aggressive, and irritated.

"You know damn well who the hell I am, Louie." Lexent snapped back. The eye peeking through the gap narrowed for a moment, before opening wide in realization.

"L-Lex? I'm sorry man; I didn't realize it was you-."

"Just hurry up and let me in." Lexent barked out, cutting off the man called Louie. The door slammed shut, before opening again. The man standing in the doorway was of an average height, with a shock of dirty, stuck-together black hair. He was wearing tattered clothes, and one of his arms was missing. The other one was stretched out wide in a welcoming gesture.

"Out of all the people I least thought I'd see you here, you crazy bastard." He gave out a small chuckle, but Lexent waved him off impatiently.

"I'm happy to see you too, Louie, but I came here to do business. You remember that thing I had you keep hold of? I came to collect it."

A frown appeared on Louie's face. He nodded his head, gesturing towards the interior of his house with his head.

"Come on in." He stepped back and Lexent walked into the house. It was a very run-down place, with the wallpaper tearing away to reveal the brickwork underneath. The few pieces of furniture were splintered, torn up or otherwise damaged. There were only three small rooms on this floor of the house – the main living room, a kitchen and a bedroom with one tiny bed. Louie led Lexent through the living room and through a door that led down to a flight of stairs. He was talking to him whilst they walked.

"Man, you changed so much Lex! I swear, I didn't recognize ya back there. I guess that's why you was able to walk around Demacia like no big deal, eh?"

Lexent gave him no answer, but grimly followed him. He glanced around his friend's humble lodgings, not exactly feeling sympathetic towards him. Louie continued talking, his tone growing more serious now.

"Things went and gone down to the crapper these past days, I tell ya Lex. There've been rumors that Noxus is mobilizing troops to prepare for some sorta offensive action. Everyone's going paranoid, thinkin' it's going to be full-out war."

"Shit talk." Lexent grumbled out. "Swain's not the kind of guy to charge at a brick wall with a knife. He knows that Noxus can't beat Demacia head to head. This whole panic crap is exactly the sort of thing he's trying to achieve…"

He became lost in his thoughts. Louie shrugged his shoulders as they approached the bottom of the stairs, which ended in a simple wooden door. Producing a rusty bunch of keys from his pocket, Louie unlocked the door and put them back into his pocket before pushing the door open with his right hand.

"I ain't know much about that stuff, Lex. I'm a soldier, not a politician."

"Me too." Lexent responded, still pondering.

"Huh…" The two men stepped through the door into the room. It was a small cellar that contained very little except a few barrels and crates full of god knows what. Louie crossed over to one of them, still talking as he did so.

"Well, as I said I don't know very much, but I do know that the big heads at Demacia are ordering full mobilization. They want to triple the amount of regulars in the army, and they're building new siege machines like there's no tomorrow. It's crazy man, I tell you. And we simple folks are getting it the worst. Even the poorest of us used to get by alright, but not anymore. Not anymore…"

"Any riots?" Lexent questioned curiously. Louie was searching through one of the chests, whilst shaking his head.

"Nah. Everyone's just like they were before the good ol' Institute kicked the bucket. Full of pride and benevolence. Except you can't eat pride or wash your throat down with benevolence."

Lexent nodded his head in understanding. Louie picked out something from the chest and then closed it again. Returning to Lexent he held out a slender, wooden crossbow with a strand of rope and a leather quiver full of bolts. Lexent slung the quiver across his shoulder and took one of the bolts, stringing it onto the crossbow. After a while, he lifted and inspected the armed weapon in his hands, thoroughly looking over it. Finally, he nodded.

"Good as new. Thanks, Louie." He nodded at the man, who in turn waved him off with his one remaining hand.

"Aw, don't mention it. It's not like it cost me anything." He replied. Lexent put his arm through the piece of rope and slung the crossbow across his shoulder as well. Louie watched him with a small smile.

"You still practice shooting, Lex?" He questioned.

"Recently? No. But I'm about to get a whole damn lot of practice."

"Oh, right. You're still going ahead with that shit-crazy idea of yours?"

"Yeah. Pretty much." An awkward sort of silence settled between the two men after this short exchange of words. Finally, Louie spoke out nostalgically.

"You used to be a crack shot back in the day, remember? Could shoot the boogers out of a recruit's nose from a hundred paces."

Lexent sighed heavily. "Please, Louie. Don't talk of those times. They're just the past."

…

Roland and Alena were starting wide-eyed at the show that was taking place below them. The tent was a large dome, with raised seats circling the main stage right in the middle of the tent where the circus show was taking place. The two youngsters were squished on either side by people, but they did not mind. So far they were, among others, treated with a tremendous trapeze sequence, captivated by a courageous fire-eating act and sent into hysterics at a hilarious comedy sketch involving two clowns. They now watched with anticipation as the ringmaster strode confidently back into the middle of the stage. He was a tall, lean man wearing a black and red suit complete with a ridiculously tall top-hat. He carried a whip in one of his hands. Presently, he was stretching his arms out into the sky.

"How are you enjoying yourselves?" He shouted out, his booming voice amplified by the tiny hextech device that was strapped to his head. The crowd responded with an ecstatic cheer. The ringmaster waited for a moment before continuing.

"Okay then! This next part is not for the faint of heart, so don't say that I didn't warn you! Because now I, Marino, will go head to head with the terrifying beast-man, Bongo!" The crowd exploded into a chorus of clapping and shouting. Roland momentarily turned to Alena

"I wonder what this will be about!" He called out, struggling to make his voice heard in the buzzing excitement of the people gathered in the tent. Suddenly, four attendants appeared from the small hallway that went off the stage, pushing a cage on wheels into the middle of the stage. Inside the cage sat a creature.

It was a very large, husky creature. It largely resembled a man save for the copious amounts of hair that grew on its chest, legs and arms. Ironically, the beast-man was nearly bald save for a very short shaving of coal-black hair. Its' eyes were dull brown. The creature also showed some signs of abuse, such as scars on its face and back. Its hands gripped the iron bars in front of it, rattling them in anger. The creature's head flitted from side to side, giving hateful glances towards the audience. Seeing the creature, Alena gave a shocked gasp.

"Poor thing…" She whispered out. Looking at her in concern, Roland tried to say something but was cut off by the hextech-amplified voice of Marino.

"And here he is! Bongo, the beast-man! I'll warn you now, he's completely feral and we haven't fed him for a week to boot…"

"What?" Alena was taken aback by what she had heard. On the other hand, everyone else in the audience couldn't care less. Even Roland's eyes were gleaming with excitement.

"…But does that faze the courageous Marino?! Of course not! Now, _open the cage_!"

The crowd's cheering rose. One of the attendants quickly unlocked the key to Bongo's cage, and right after that all four of the cage-pushers ran away down the tunnel that led away from the stage. The cage door slowly creaked open. An anxious silence settled in the crowd. Roland gulped lightly, his eyes fixated on the stage. Alena stared too, but more with disgust than anything else. Suddenly, Bongo shot out from his cage and charged straight at Marino.

The audience collectively shrieked. On the contrary, the ringmaster Marino seemed to know exactly what he was doing as he lashed out with his whip, catching Bongo across the face. The giant staggered back, wincing in pain. The crowd cheered for Marino, save for one person. Alena. The girl felt a rising sympathy for the giant man. She wanted to do nothing more than to step out and help him, treat his wounds, do anything to stop this cruelty. How could everyone else enjoy this?

Recovering from his attack, Bongo charged again. This time, Marino waited for the beast-man to get close before gracefully stepping to the side. Turning around, Bongo swung a giant fist at the ringmaster, but to no avail as the man simply ducked underneath the strike. Marino counter-attacked once more, this time slashing Bongo across the chest. The giant grunted and stopped, clutching at the wound with its massive paw.

"Step back, you dirty ape! You are no match for the mighty Marino!" The ringmaster called out. The audience responded with savage delight, chanting his name out to the skies. This is when Alena decided that she had enough.

The cleric got up and, squeezing her way through the crowd, left the circus tent.

Noticing her departure, Roland quickly got up and followed her.

"Alena! Alena! Where are you going?!" He shouted after her. Some of the audience complained at the barging pair, throwing an insult at Alena and Roland or something of the sort but the young mage simply responded with an apology, whilst Alena didn't seem to notice. Pulling her hood up, Alena continued to shove through the seated audience until she managed to find the entrance to the tent, hurrying outside. Roland followed swiftly afterwards.

"Hey, what's the matter? Don't you like the show?" He said in a worried tone. He could hear quiet, stifled sobbing. Slowly, Alena turned so that she faced Roland. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"D-Did you see how they were treating that poor creature?" She stuttered out. "They said he wasn't fed in a w-week, and then there was all of t-that wh-wh-whipping…" She gasped out, burying her face in her hands. An awkward feeling spreading through him, Roland's mind raced to think of a way to cheer her up. During that, Alena spoke out again, her voice muffled by her hands.

"I-I just wish I could he-help him somehow…"

Roland looked up. These words sparked a new idea in him. He thought furiously, until his pondering reached its apex and he had managed to find a solution.

"Help! That's it!"

Alena looked up at him in confusion. "W-What?" She whispered out.

"Help!" Roland spoke in a frantic, excited tone. "If those people are treating him bad, then we can rescue him! We'll talk to the others; tell them about what we saw and how you felt about it! They're sure to agree with us. At least I hope so…" He drifted away into uncertainty. On the other hand, Alena's spirits rose. She gulped lightly, steadying her breathing.

"Y-You think that Lexent and Fe-Featherway will agree to h-help that c-creature?"

Roland shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see why they shouldn't. And in any case it won't hurt asking, right?"

* * *

><p>And back I am with Chapter 5 of The Search for the Heart of Ice! Alongside posting of this chapter, I've also fixed up the pretty embarassing derp that I've previously missed - namely, the incorrect spelling of occurrences in the title of the fanfic! I'm so sorry, everyone! Also, there's a new, hopefully more interesting summary. As usual, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Any reviews and opinons are very welcome and appreciated!<p>

Cheerio.

~Kaspersky


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